Red Knight Takes Queen's Bishop
by River9Noble
Summary: A sequel to my story "Red, White, and Harley" - read that first! It's the setup. Bruce is still reeling from his son Jason Todd's accusations, not to mention the oddity of Harley Quinn's new role. He's ready to hang up the cowl and shut down the Batlings for good, but Gotham needs its heroes - what's a Bat to do? Especially when a sober Bane won't leave him alone. JasonXHarley
1. Chapter 1

_A/N I HIGHLY recommend that you **stop right here** and **go read my prequel story "Red, White, and Harley"** before you read this one. Sorry y'all, but that's the setup. You will notice that Bane comes across as highly irregular at the end of that story. There are reasons ... some of which this chapter explains and it will all come into play later on as well. Jason and Harley and the rest of the BatFamily will still feature prominently into this story but it will focus a little more on things from Bruce's perspective._

_This is an actively updated longfic; a new chapter posts once a week._

_**Chapter 1**_

Batman looked up at Bane under the meaty arm that he had casually slung over his shoulder as he walked him out of Gotham Central Station.

"You're… different," Batman commented to him.

"Is that so?" Bane responded.

"Yeah," Bats answered. "What happened to the unabridged dictionary and complete works of Shakespeare that you were always regurgitating before?" Bane scoffed and removed his arm from Bruce's shoulders to strike a fearsome pose.

"I, Bane, lord of darkness and fear, doth summon thee, Batman, to expunge the world of the threat of King Snake, venomous father of mine, in his fearsome quest to dominate innocent mortals…" Bruce chuckled slightly.

"Exactly," he said. "Well, sort of," he amended. "A little more emo, as the kids would say, and a lot less King Arthur. What happened to all that?"

"You prefer me that way?" Bane asked him.

"I _prefer_ you not breaking my back," Batman responded. "How you talk is up to you."

"But you like all the pretty stuff?" Bane persisted. Bruce huffed.

"I don't care," he insisted. "And I would say it was poetic, not pretty. Now you're just… goofy."

"_Goofy?" _Bane said, putting a hand on his hip. "That hurts, dude."

"See, _that,_" Batman said. "What the hell is up with that? You're _Bane_, for fuck's sake." Bane blinked rapidly for a few seconds. When he looked at Bruce again, it was a far more seductively terrifying gaze, like a snake amusing itself with its prey.

"Indeed I am," he said in a smoother voice with a lower timbre. Bane cracked his neck and popped his knuckles as if adjusting himself to his body.

"Interesting that this is the iteration of myself that you prefer, Bat," he said, eyeing his apparent ally with a curious look in his eye. Batman narrowed his eyes.

"What are you playing at, Bane?"

"Who said it was a game?" Bane practically purred with evil, his open attitude of a few minutes ago now changed to a dangerous taunting dance of words with the Bat.

Batman stopped walking and eyed Bane coldly. "I'm not here to fight with you," he said flatly. "And I sure as hell don't need to help you find your father. If that's even why you're really here," he added.

"_I'm _here because you wish it," Bane replied mysteriously, "but _Bane_ is here to catch King Snake and the Kobras. So, how do you propose we find them?"

"I _propose_ that you start by telling me what the fuck is going on with you," the Bat retorted. "I'm not working with someone who I can't trust."

"And yet you trusted me easily enough when Harley Quinn did," Bane mused. "Why was that?"

"I… don't know," Bruce answered honestly, genuinely puzzled at himself when called out about his previous in-the-moment reaction. He thought for a minute. "Your body language," he concluded. "You didn't have the posture of someone about to fight. You were relaxed and… _happy_," Bruce finished with some disgust. Bane chuckled darkly.

"Harley tends to have that effect on people," he said dryly. Bruce shook his head.

"Not like that. You weren't even the same person."

"I wasn't, was I?" Bane agreed without explanation. Batman raised his eyebrow at him, then realized that Bane couldn't see it under his mask, so he frowned instead.

"Suit yourself," Bruce snapped, completely out of patience. It had been a hell of an hour. He'd only had an emotional phone call out of the blue with the son he'd just realized that he abused, learned that Jason and Harley were married, found out the Joker was dead, discovered the Batlings had gone against his word and not only broken back into the BatCave but gone out on patrol, _and_ Stephanie and Tim had gone up against Bane _without him_ and without backup and could have ended up dead like Jason.

"I'm leaving," Batman said and turned to stalk back into the shadows. He was stopped by a strong hand on his shoulder which he immediately whirled around to hit off of him.

"Easy, Batman," dark Bane said, holding his hands up to show his lack of malice. "I thought you were more of an intellectual," Bane said to him. "Detective. Good at figuring out puzzles."

"It's been a shitty day," Bruce responded grouchily.

"Hm," Bane responded. "You're familiar with psychology, though? Trauma disorders?"

"I guess," Bruce answered. "Sure."

"Dissociative Identity Disorder," Bane said to him. "You ought to know about it, seeing as how your daughter-in-law has it." Bruce thought hard for a minute, pulling bits and pieces of news and science articles he'd read back to mind and trying not to be distracted with thoughts of Harley. And the fact that she was now in his family.

"Multiple personalities?" he asked Bane finally, lifting a hand to massage the back of his neck.

"Old name," Bane answered, "and somewhat inaccurate, but, yes."

"Oh," Bruce said, good and puzzled now. "Is this gonna get weird if I help you? Is there an asshole in there waiting to fuck me up again?" Bane looked at him thoughtfully.

"No to fucking you up. 'Weird', that's an odd question coming from the man who runs around dressed as a bat."

"Yeah, yeah," Bruce muttered. "Just tell me what you know about King Snake and the Kobras. What was your intel?"

"My intel was that they were launching a terrorist attack in Gotham with bombs on several trains. Nothing beyond that."

"No reason? No ulterior motive? Any plans to make a move on Arkham Asylum? Why Gotham?" Bruce peppered him with questions, going into full-on detective mode. Bane thought for a minute.

"King Snake has been attempting to take leadership of the Kobras. My guess is that this is a demonstration of his ability and power meant to impress those members who have not yet supported him. Why Gotham?" Bane shrugged. "It's well known that the Bat protects Gotham and that Gotham is the Joker's playground. It would be effectively impressive if he were to succeed."

"All right," Batman said. "He's probably nearby to watch his bombs go off. So…" Bruce thought for a minute. "The water tower in the station yard is my bet. High position, good view, defensible high ground, easy to disguise themselves as station employees."

"Shall we investigate?" Bane asked him. Bruce nodded.

"I have a scope in my belt. Let's stay well hidden in the shadows of the platform and get down to where we have a clear view."

"After you," Bane said graciously, sweeping his arm out to the side for Batman to lead the way.

They ran down a train platform as far as they could under the cover of the pavilion. Bruce pulled out his scope when he got close enough and held it up to his eye, scanning the gated ledge on top of the water tower.

"Definitely a few people up there," he said to Bane, offering him the scope. Bane grunted as he looked through it.

"That's him," he said. "How shall we proceed?" Bruce sighed.

"Do you have a vehicle with you? I sent the BatMobile home with the sidekicks. I can go get the BatWing if you stay and cover the base of the ladder but it's a ways from here." Bane gave him a look.

"The little BatBoy can fly it, can't he?"

"Robin?" Bats asked in surprise. "No."

"No, he can't fly it? Or no, you don't want him to?" Bane asked skeptically. Bruce sighed. Hard.

"No, I don't want him to," he said in a flintier voice. "In case you haven't noticed, we're kind of going through some family drama right now and I don't want him out here."

"In case _you_ haven't noticed," Bane said to the Bat in a cold voice, "Gotham isn't a town that is forgiving of family drama or overprotective fathers. Order him to bring the BatWing and you and I will handle the ground assault," he ordered sharply. Bruce gave him a look, but it was a tired and defeated one.

"Fine," he muttered, opening a link on his comm. "Bat-Mite?" he said into it.

"I'm here, Batman," Damian answered immediately.

"Is Robin back yet? I need him to take out the BatWing to the water tower at Gotham Central. King Snake and a couple of Kobras are up there, we need air support so we can take them down."

"Affirmative, Batman," Damian answered. "BatCave out."

"All right," Batman grumbled to Bane. "He's on his way." Bane nodded, but the look he gave Bruce was one of concern.

"You are not well," he said to him.

"No shit," Bruce grumbled.

"Harley Quinn is an excellent psychologist, you know," Bane offered as he checked his weapons and prepared to storm the water tower. Bruce groaned.

"Why is _everyone _telling me to get therapy from Harley Quinn today?"

"Apparently, because you need it," Bane said. He shook his head. "I thought I broke you way back when, Bat, but this…" Bane trailed off and waved his hand up and down to take in Batman with disgust. He shook his head.

"I feel pity when I look at you," he said distastefully.

"Yeah, well, never have kids," Bruce said bitterly. "No one can break you like your child."

"I will remember that," Bane said seriously. "I shall keep this pathetic picture of a broken and defeated Bat in my head in case I am ever tempted one day to go down that foolhardy path."

"See, there's my Bane," Bruce cracked at him. "Gothic poetry at its finest." Bane lifted his eyebrow at the Bat, but it seemed to be with some amusement. A second later, they saw the BatWing approaching from behind the tower.

"Do not fail me in this task," Bane warned threateningly.

"I won't," Bruce muttered. He activated his comm. "Robin, use the nets first to secure them and then gas them so they can't get any shots off as we go up."

"Affirmative," the comm crackled. The BatWing banked hard and approached the water tower quickly - too quickly.

"Dammit," Bruce muttered. "Robin, slow your approach," he barked into the comm, but there was no answer. The nets fired and effectively pinned the criminals to the tower while the BatWing rolled to avoid a collision at the last minute. Bruce groaned quietly as the BatWing circled back around and came in, slower this time, to hover in front of the tower while spraying the knockout gas.

"Let's go," Bane said, and he and Batman made their approach through the tracks to the base of the tower. "I will go first," Bane announced, already starting up the ladder.

"Fine by me," Bruce mumbled behind him, climbing up after him with a batarang already prepared in one hand.

As King Snake and the Kobras were already knocked out by the gas, capturing them and getting them packed off to Arkham was an easy task, albeit some grunt work to get them safely down the water tower since Batman insisted on not throwing them off the side and killing them. To be fair, Bane hadn't suggested killing his father, just the underlings, but Bats was having none of it.

As the two of them watched the police van pull off, with the criminals still knocked out and securely restrained in the back, Commissioner Gordon made her way to Batman. "Bomb Squad still has a few trains left to check," she said to him, "but we've already disabled three bombs."

"Good," Batman grunted.

"Any idea the total number?" she asked Bane.

"None," he said. "You are fortunate that I uncovered the plot at all."

"Yes, we are," Barbara Gordon said with only the very faintest hint of snark in her voice. She shook her head. "Never thought I'd see the day when I'd say this, but Gotham thanks you, Bane," she said, reaching her hand out to shake his. He gravely returned her handshake, though Bruce could swear he was laughing under his mask.

"I am happy to be of assistance," he said quite seriously, though. "And… I regret my former actions when I was under the pernicious grip of the drug Venom." He flicked his eyes to meet Bruce's head on. "_All_ of my actions," he said.

"Well," Barbara said, looking between Bane and the Bat, "I am happy to hear that. And happy that you have found sobriety." Bane nodded at her and then took Batman's elbow as he made to leave.

"Walk with me, Bat," he said in a voice that didn't brook disagreement.

"Thank you, too, Batman," she called over their shoulders. Bruce lifted a tired hand up to her in a wave as he and Bane walked away.

"Something else you needed to say to me, Bane?" Batman asked him as they made their way out into the streets.

"Let us go for a drink," Bane said. Bruce sputtered out a laugh.

"You want to get a drink?"

"Yes."

"With me," Bruce said.

"Yes," Bane answered. "Victories should be celebrated with the appropriate libation and today we are comrades in arms." Bruce gave another disbelieving laugh.

"And where exactly did you want to go to have this drink? Do _not_ say the Iceberg Lounge," he warned him.

"Any bar will do," Bane said.

"Any bar will _not_ do," Bats countered. "Unless you want to be filmed by nonstop gawkers and have our entire visit uploaded to YouTube." Bane thought for a minute.

"My presence would not deter the crowds?" Bruce just stared at him.

"Fine," Bane muttered. "We shall purchase our liquor to go and find an appropriately private location to drink it. I assume that you know of several."

"Naturally," Bruce grumbled. "Do you have money?"

"You do not carry local currency in that BatBelt of yours?" Bane asked him, getting an eye roll from Bruce this time, who was good and done with this day and could only attribute his actual willingness to grab drinks with the man who had broken his back years ago to his sheer exhaustion and emotional overload.

"I will buy," Bane said, shaking his head at the Bat.

"You invited, you _should_ buy," Bruce grumbled at him, making Bane actually laugh out loud.

"My apologies, dark Bat. It was not my intention to not buy, you merely surprised me with your question. And with your lack of currency given that you carry everything imaginable in your belt."

"Can we end this discussion and drink?" Bruce groused. "Seriously. You are on my last nerve right now."

"My apologies," Bane said again, with perhaps a smile lurking under his mask. He pushed open the door of the liquor store they were passing, causing the men holding up the counter to promptly shit their pants before they could even get a shot off. Bane calmly cracked their heads together, either knocking them out or killing them, Bruce wasn't really sure and didn't care to check as he listlessly followed Bane in.

"Holy shit!" the young cashier was saying, whipping out his phone. "Can I get a selfie, dude?" he asked Bane, coming out from behind his locked and grated counter.

"Of course," Bane graciously replied, posing ferociously with the clerk in front of the downed criminals before pulling out a wad of bills and asking about the location of various rums and liquors. "What is your drink, Bat?" he called over to Bruce as he returned to the counter with his arms loaded up.

"Whiskey," Bruce muttered, leaning against the door with his arms crossed, out of the line of sight of the security camera. Bane went off to grab the bottles while Bruce shot his hand out for the cashier's phone before he returned to his register.

"Aw, I didn't, I wasn't going to -" the clerk sputtered as Batman went through deleting any pictures of himself.

"No photos of me and I wasn't here," he growled at the kid. "I know where you work," he added menacingly, causing the cashier to nod nervously.

"Yessir, Mr. Bat, you weren't here, sir, only Bane," he sputtered, putting his phone in his pants pocket before letting himself back into his locked cage to ring up Bane's massive purchase. Bane bagged up the bottles, handing one paper bag to Batman, and slid the kid an extra hundred with a wink.

"Don't forget to call the cops before you post on social media," Batman said to him wearily as they left the shop, seeing the clerk already had his phone back out.

"Oh, shit," the kid said, apparently just remembering he had two knocked out gunmen on his floor that might come to and dialing 911 instead.

"An intelligent word of caution," Bane said to Bruce as they walked out.

"Kids today," Bruce sighed. "Don't ever have any."

"That should not be a problem," Bane responded. "Now, where shall we go to partake of our liquor?" Batman quietly led him off into the night.

_A/N More chapters coming. Please review! _


	2. Chapter 2

_**Chapter 2**_

"So, tell me," Bane said to Batman as they leaned comfortably up against some headstones in the deserted Gotham Cemetery, the place completely abandoned after dark, "what is the problem between you and your son?"

Batman made a disgusted sound. "I'm not nearly drunk enough to start talking about that yet," he said, taking another swig of his whiskey. "Why don't you tell me something?"

"Of course," Bane said generously, knocking back some more of his rum. "What would you like to know?"

"Why did you become so different when you were talking to Harley?" Bruce asked, genuinely curious.

"Ah, Harley Quinn," Bane murmured. "Quite an intelligent and formidable lady, that one. Your son chose well for his bride."

"Mmph," Bruce humphed, not even close to being ready to agree to that.

"She helped me detox from the Venom, you know," Bane said to Batman. "Such a kind heart," he mused and sighed. "And such a pity what the Joker did to her. I offered to kill him for her, you know, on many occasions."

"Really?" Bruce said, surprised.

"You surely don't blame her for her misdeeds," Bane said to Batman. Bruce sighed.

"I… don't know. Maybe. Maybe not. I don't blame her for going crazy, no. But she's killed a lot of people." Bruce looked over at Bane in the moonlight. "She's even more dangerous than the Joker, when it comes down to it. He lets his insanity control him, but Harley… Harley is smart."

"Indeed she is," Bane agreed. "You are remarkably skilled to have evaded her assassination attempts for so many years. She has had quite the vendetta against you."

"I didn't know it was about my son. Red Hood," Bruce clarified. "I didn't even know what I _did_ to him until recently," he added in self-reproach.

"What did you do to him?" Bane asked him again. Bruce heaved out a sigh.

"I forced Robin onto him, thereby making me a Grade-A child abuser," he said bitterly. "I didn't think I forced it - I asked him - but -"

"He was your son at the time?" Bane asked him.

"Yeah," Bruce answered.

"Adopted?" Bane asked.

"Yeah, I saved him off the streets," Bruce said. "I had put him in a boarding school at first but it ended up a bad place, so I adopted him." Bruce glanced over towards Bane. "I caught him stealing the hubcaps off the BatMobile," he snickered. "That's how we first met."

"Mmm," Bane murmured thoughtfully.

"What's that mean, mmm?" Bruce said to him.

"You adopted a street child. And you approached him to be Robin, he did not ask you?"

"Yeah," Bruce said. "I thought he wanted to do it, though, I gave him a choice and he told me 'yes.' Why would he do that, why would he say 'yes' if he didn't want to do it?" Bruce wondered despairingly. "I get what Harley and Jason are saying about not making children into crimefighters. But Jason's the only one it didn't work out with. My oldest son, he was sneaking out of his room to find his parents' killers without even knowing I was the Bat. He got angry at me recently, said it didn't hurt him at all so why should it have hurt Red Hood? And my current Robin and Batgirl, they found me and _begged _me to train them. I just don't know why Red Hood -"

"He did not ask you for it," Bane said calmly. "You asked him and he wanted to please you."

"Oh, _shit,_" Bruce gulped. "Oh, shit," he whispered again, some tears rolling down his eyes. He downed some more whiskey. "God, I am such a fuck up," he whispered. "I try to help and I don't get anything right."

"So, you are human," Bane said to him. "You failed, yes. But now it seems you have the opportunity to make amends." Bruce snorted.

"Amends, right. I don't think there's a way to amend for getting your son beaten and killed by the Joker." Bane took a sip of his rum.

"There is no way to correct it, no. What's done is done. But amends are not about undoing the past. They are about atoning for your sins as you go forward. Harley taught me about them, in fact."

"Oh," Bruce said, sounding puzzled.

"I did not answer your question from before," Bane said. "Why I am a different part of myself with Harley. Harley and I, we both understand each other's multiplicity. Dissociative identities result from trauma, the human brain splits off and creates walls to protect itself and survive and within those walls, different personalities emerge with the coping skills needed for whatever life-threatening situation is at hand, oftentimes completely unaware of the other parts in the mind which have hidden themselves deep within in order to maintain sanity."

"Ok…" Bruce said. "I always thought Harley _was _insane."

"No, no, no, my friend," Bane said. "Insanity is a rude word used by the uneducated. Surely you are better read than that."

"Eh…" Bruce said. "I don't read a lot about psychology, honestly."

"The Joker, for instance," Bane said. "He is a sociopath. Feels only for himself, complete lack of empathy for others. No sense of right and wrong - or a severely misguided desire to do what society perceives as wrong simply to create chaos. But Harley and I … we are survivors of trauma."

"I've never understood how he flipped Harley inside out," Bruce said. "He was always shackled for his therapy treatments and his other therapists never went off the deep end. So you're telling me he traumatized her somehow?"

"Him? Oh, no, not him," Bane said. "He tapped into one of her divided parts that was already hiding inside of her, one that he understood how to manipulate. Harley's trauma is from childhood. As is mine, of course," Bane explained. "Joker undoubtedly spent each session fishing for ways to unnerve her and accidentally stumbled onto his access point with something he said that made a hidden part react. And once he had that, well… he is no idiot."

"Well, he's a dead idiot," Bruce said, stretching his legs out in front of him.

"What?" Bane asked, shocked.

"Oh," Bruce said casually. "Harley killed him. For killing Red Hood when he was Robin. My son she married. Who came back to life. And hates me. You know."

"She killed him recently?" Bane asked.

"No, right after he killed Robin. But she thought that Robin was still dead until a few months ago."

"Ah," Bane said. "Now I understand. Harley has been much different these last many years since the Joker left Gotham. Clever girl, that one, to pretend he is still alive all this time."

"So she helped you detox, huh?" Bruce asked him.

"Yes," Bane answered. "Brave soul that she is. I was _not_ the most polite company during that period."

"I can imagine," Bruce said dryly.

"She is quite fond of this show, RuPaul's Drag Race. You know it?" Bruce laughed.

"I've heard of it. Never watched it."

"Harley and I binge watched twelve seasons during my detox to keep my mind distracted. It was quite the fascinating diversion, I assure you. So many things that I never knew that I did not know. But anyway," Bane went on, "apparently a part within myself deeply identifies with the gay male persona."

"Oh," Bruce said, surprised.

"And since I was detoxing, a most brutal experience, that part came forward most strongly when other parts retreated and he bonded with Harley Quinn. So now when I see her…"

"It's 'damn girl' this and 'dude' that," Bruce finished for Bane.

"Yes," Bane replied. "Technically, I suppose 'dude' is not emblematic of the gay male speech patterns, but who am I to police what my inner voice wishes to say?"

"Very fair-minded of you," Bruce chuckled, continuing to drink and slumping back a little bit against the gravestone to get more comfortable.

"I am truly sorry for breaking your back," Bane said out of context, causing Bruce to stiffen and look over at him. Bane laid a hand on his knee. "I do not dare to ask for your forgiveness, but perhaps the timing of my father's escapade is not without its deeper purpose."

"How's that?" Bruce grunted uncomfortably, honestly unsure what to say to such an honest apology from the man whom he'd once thought would be the only one to ever break him mentally.

"You are not well," Bane said gently, repeating his words from the train station. "You do not wish to be the Bat any longer. You are struggling with your children. Yet Gotham still needs a Batman. I can help you."

"How?" Bruce muttered, suddenly anxious about where this was going.

"I owe you amends," Bane said solemnly. "I will take up the mantle of the Bat for you while you rest and reconcile with your son. And -" he added when Bruce was about to protest "- I will protect the little Batboy and Batgirl who do not wish to give up their capes."

"No," Bruce said strongly. "No. They need to stop. It's too dangerous. I can't let them - it's not good parenting - adults should protect -" his words were getting muddled from the alcohol but his feelings were clear.

"They do not wish to stop, Bat," Bane said patiently. "And they are well trained fighters. There is no need for them to stop. With proper supervision, they will be just fine."

"Jason wasn't fine," Bruce muttered, wiping his eyes which were flooding with tears.

"Your son Jason, the little Batboy Robin who died, yes? He went to Ethiopia without you, did he not?"

"Yes," Bruce muttered.

"And you would have prevented his death had you been there, yes?"

"Yes," Bruce said with regret. "I told him not to go, I _told _him -"

"But you see, my friend," Bane said compassionately, "he did not want to be Robin, but he wanted to go to Ethiopia. Why would he abandon the one thing he wanted that you were denying him when he had given so much for you that he did not want to give in the first place?"

Bruce put his fist on his mouth and muffled a sob.

"No, no, you misunderstand me, Bat," Bane said, actually wrapping an arm around Bruce's shoulders. "I do not say this to punish you. But to illustrate to you that your Batboy and your Batgirl are not unfit to be on the streets with the Batman fighting crime. And I shall be their Batman."

"I can't -" Bruce said. "You can't -"

"I can, Bat, and you will let me," Bane said gently but firmly. "I already know your secret identity and I owe you amends. Who is more perfect than me to help you now in your time of need? We shall make me a larger Batsuit and I shall become the Bat. And you shall assist me," Bane added seriously. "Behind the scenes with your detective mind. It will not be good for you to get lazy."

Bruce stared up at the night sky, filled with light pollution, of course, from Gotham City, but the dark clouds highlighted by the faint lightbeams would have covered the stars anyway. He took a deep breath, and then another one, and tried to think of a reasonable argument against Bane.

Since Jason had broken the news to him that broke his heart, Bruce had felt nothing but hollow and sick inside. He cried multiple times a day. Alfred had all but given up on butlering, instead sitting next to him in the armchair in his bedroom while Bruce sat in bed, the two of them drinking endless cups of tea together and not speaking.

Damian - fuck, he'd practically abandoned Damian these last few weeks, hadn't he? And of course, he had turned his back completely on Tim and Stephanie, but they were older, he rationalized, they didn't need him to be their parent as much, but Damian -

Some more tears slipped down Bruce's cheeks. "I'm a terrible parent," he muttered.

"Do you know what RuPaul says, Bat?" Bane asked him.

"I can't imagine," Bruce answered, sniffing but smiling a little at Bane's question.

"If you can't love yourself, how in the hell are you going to love somebody else?" Bane quoted. "I have never met a man who hated himself more, my friend. I will help you work on that, too," Bane said solemnly. "I take my spiritual practice quite seriously. It will help you."

Bruce leaned over to look at him. "Didn't you kill that priest, though, who raised you?" he asked him.

"That was not for his spirituality, but for his lack thereof," Bane answered him darkly. "And that is a story for another time, my friend. Meditation, making amends, learning to love and forgive yourself for your errors, these will help you and I will teach you."

Bruce sighed. "Ok," he said, not sure if he was too tired or too drunk or too stupid or too broken to say no to Bane, but he felt as though a giant weight slipped off of his shoulders with his acceptance of Bane's offer to become the Batman of Gotham.


	3. Chapter 3

_A/N Check out author TheNavia, her story "Jason Todd Overthinks Hugs" inspired part of this chapter. _

_**Chapter 3**_

It was going on two a.m. by the time Batman and Bane shambled into the BatCave, having chosen to walk back. "It'sh not like we can take a cab," Batman had laughed in the cemetery when they had finished their booze and debated travel options.

Damian was curled up in a chair in front of the BatComputer, the monitors giving his sleeping face a slight glow. No one else was to be seen. Bruce had removed his cowl while walking in and he sighed paternally as he looked down on Damian, his son's ferocious inner assassin masked by the sweetness of a slumbering child's body.

Bruce went to go hang the BatSuit up without waking him, figuring that he would carry him up to bed. He did wonder where Tim and Stephanie were, although he supposed that Stephanie was probably asleep under the influence of painkillers for her broken ankle. Tim, though, shouldn't have left Damian down in the BatCave by himself.

Bane was following slower behind Bruce, ogling the different equipment in the BatCave with a connoisseur's appreciation. He, too, had removed his mask, which was dangling from a hand. As he approached the BatComputer and noticed the little body in the chair, he glanced curiously down at the tiny figure, then hissed in a sharp breath.

"Little Killer!" he breathed. Bruce was already walking back to Damian and gave Bane a sharp look upon hearing his exclamation. Bane met his eyes with surprised shock reflected in his own.

"How is he here?" he asked Bruce quietly but insistently. Bane looked down at the sleeping Damian again and, to Bruce's astonishment, gently swept a hand through the boy's hair with a tender touch.

"You know my son?" Bruce asked Bane.

"_Your _son?" Bane asked Bruce, jaw slightly agog. He rubbed his large hand over his mouth as he closed it, looking from Damian to Bruce and back again, and swore softly under his breath in Spanish before marking himself with a cross.

"God works in mysterious ways," Bane said to Bruce with a certain amount of holy fear in his voice. "I never imagined he was the Batman's," Bane said, shaking his head, "but the Bat who will not break the sixth commandment is, in fact, the perfect person to help the Little Killer find peace in his soul."

"How do you know him?" Bruce said softly, with some concern in his voice. Bane made a quiet but very disgusted noise.

"I crossed paths with the League of Assassins at one point," he murmured. "I wanted to kill Talia for what she was doing to the Little Killer," he said in a troubled voice, "but, I didn't know if it was right to kill the boy's mother. If one day he'd want to know her." Bane took a shaky breath and when he met Bruce's eyes, Bruce was so moved by the distress that he saw there that he almost moved forward to grasp Bane's arm in support. Almost.

Thoughts of little Bane growing up in prison flooded Bruce's mind, mingling with the horrors that he had learned only too late that Talia - his one-time love! - had forced on their son, the murders she had made him commit as a toddler, the intense training in assassination, the ruthlessness of mind and purpose - Bruce had to blink away some tears and it appeared that Bane was in the same predicament.

"I threatened her," Bane told Bruce, wiping his eyes. "Told her to give the boy up to a normal life. Or else I'd kill her and her father. I still had _quite _the supply of Venom at the time," he said with a small smile. Bruce returned it.

"I don't know if this is a normal life," he murmured. "But I'm glad he's in it."

"Me, too," Bane agreed. "A normal life was probably not the best idea for him. But here, with you... " Bane looked down at Damian with actual tenderness in his eyes. "There is hope for him. And purpose. Without killing," Bane chuckled, meeting Bruce's eye with a twinkle in his.

"And not two hours ago you were telling me what a failure you were as a parent," Bane said to him. "You are exactly who this little one needs, my friend." A slow warmth began to spread through Bruce's chest at Bane's words.

"I haven't been the best father to him," Bruce whispered.

"You will do better," Bane promised him. "And you are a thousand times a better parent to him than Talia was," he added, clapping Bruce on the shoulder in support. Bruce nodded, misting up as he thought of the traumas that his youngest son had already endured in his short life and feeling his red hot rage at Talia once again for her brutality towards an innocent.

"She changed," Bruce murmured. "The woman I once loved wouldn't have abused a child. Or hidden him from me." He sighed, shaking his head.

"Some of us change for the better and some for the worse," Bane said. "But thank God, change is possible." Bruce smiled at him.

"RuPaul again?" he asked him.

"No; Bane," the man himself answered with a grin.

Bruce bent down and gently lifted up the sleeping boy, cradling him in his arms. Damian shifted a bit and murmured sleepily, "Father?"

"I'm here," Bruce answered quietly. "Go back to sleep, I'll carry you upstairs."

"'S Tim and Steph home?" Damian mumbled. Bruce paused and frowned. He turned and looked at the BatWing perfectly parked in the cave and looked back down at Damian.

"Where are Tim and Stephanie?" he asked Damian slowly.

"Hospital," Damian muttered, curling into Bruce's chest.

"_Who flew the BatWing?" _Bruce asked with more volume.

"Bruce, hush!" Bane scolded him. "You'll wake the Little Killer." But it was too late. Damian had already opened his eyes and was looking up at Bruce more clearly.

"Father?" he asked him. "You are home," he added before turning his head to see who else had spoken. Damian's eyes widened when he saw Bane.

"Good to see you again, Little Killer," Bane said kindly. "Maybe you are more of a Little Non-Killer now, I hope?" he asked slyly. Damian smiled at him.

"My Father does not approve of killing," he said peacefully.

"Good," Bane said, surprising Bruce yet again, because not eight hours earlier, Bane had been determined to throw the Kobras off of the water tower rather than go to the trouble of lowering them safely down. Bane reached out and stroked Damian's head gently. "Killing is not for children," he said seriously. "I have prayed for your soul many times since meeting you, Little Killer, and look - God has placed you here with the Bat, whose aversion to killing is legendary."

"I still have Osito," Damian said, causing Bane to smile widely.

"Ah! He has been a good friend to you, I hope, like he was to me?" Damian nodded.

"He's in my room, would you like to see him?"

"Of course!" Bane said. "Come, Bruce, let's tuck the Little Non-Killer in, yes, and visit Osito?" Bruce was looking rather slack-jawed from Damian to Bane, but he regrouped quickly.

"Where are Stephanie and Tim, Damian?" he asked. Damian frowned.

"I think they are still at the hospital getting Stephanie's ankle set. I was waiting for them to come home and I fell asleep."

"_Who flew the BatWing?_" Bruce growled dangerously.

"Me, Father," Damian said easily. Bruce's growl turned to more of a roar and he squeezed Damian tighter as he was still holding him in his arms.

"You almost crashed!" Bruce exploded at him. "I told you _Tim _was supposed to fly it, not you!"

"Tim was still at the hospital, Father," Damian said, "and you said you needed air support." Bruce practically howled in frustration.

"Not at the expense of your life, Damian!" Bruce shouted. "I already lost one son, I don't want to lose another!"

"Oh," Damian said slowly. "You are angry because you were … worried about me?"

"_Yes!_" Bruce snapped. "You took that approach _way_ too fast and you nearly crashed into the water tower. I _told _you to slow down, not that it was supposed to be _you_ piloting anyway, but -" Bruce cut himself off with a frustrated noise.

"I did not crash," Damian said calmly. "I had to approach that fast to deploy the nets in a manner to apprehend all of the villains at once. If I had approached slower, some would have escaped the nets and then been free to attack you as you approached from the ground. I rolled the BatWing safely away. There was no need to fear." Bruce was howling more and muttering under his breath. Bane reached out his arms for Damian and lifted him from Bruce.

"I think what your Father is trying to say, Little Bat, is that while a hero's job is to risk their life without thought of self in the face of imminent threat to the general populace, this was not a situation that called for such heroics and therefore, he would have preferred that you not frighten him in such a manner."

"Oh," Damian said. "So… I should have approached slower? And let some get away?"

"You should not have flown the BatWing at all!" Bruce snapped. "You should have told me that Tim wasn't home yet. You should have -"

"Now, Bruce," Bane interrupted. "The air support _was_ in fact very helpful, and the Little Bat did _not_ in fact crash, so why don't you take some deep breaths, in and out."

"I do not _want_ to take deep breaths," Bruce yelled at Bane.

"Then give your son a hug and tell him that you forgive him and that next time he should explain the situation to you more fully instead of taking matters into his own hands." Bane held Damian back out to Bruce expectantly, who looked as confused as Damian did.

"Hug," Bane insisted. Damian obediently put his arms out, but it was clear that he didn't really know what he was doing. Bruce awkwardly took him from Bane and held him against his chest as Damian's arms went loosely around his neck.

"Wrap your arms around him, Bruce, my God," Bane clucked. "Does the great and fearsome _Bane _really need to be the one to teach you how to give _hugs_ properly?" Bane gently pushed Damian's arms more tightly around Bruce's neck and made sure that Bruce didn't drop him as Bruce slowly figured out how to snake his arms around Damian's back. "Now _squeeze_ each other," Bane ordered, shaking his head at their mutual ineptitude.

Damian, always quick to take orders, didn't hesitate to squeeze his arms tighter around Bruce's neck, causing Bruce's heart to suddenly leap with an unfamiliar emotion that made it almost easy to squeeze back into the hug.

"And tell him you forgive him," Bane lectured, tapping his toe.

"I forgive you," Bruce said slowly, equally unused to saying those particular words as he was to hugging.

"I am sorry," Damian said without being prompted.

"Aw, Little Bat! That's beautiful," Bane said appreciatively. "Now, tell him what to do differently the next time, Bruce." Bruce sighed into Damian's hair.

"Next time, tell me exactly what's going on and let me make the call. Understood?" he said somewhat gently to Damian.

"Understood, Father," Damian said back.

"Bravo!" Bane said, clapping his hands. "And now let's go tuck the Little Bat in and say good-night to Osito," he said cheerfully. Damian wrapped his legs around Bruce's chest and stayed in hug mode as Bruce moved to carry him upstairs, the most unfamiliar but lovely warmth once again flooding Bruce's usually stoic heart.

As they walked together to the elevator, Bruce gave Bane a glance. "A little goofy again, aren't we?" he murmured under his breath.

"There is nothing wrong with goofy, Miss Thang," Bane answered him with a pout. A glimmer of a grin ghosted past Bruce's lips.

"Why are you here, Bane?" Damian asked him from Bruce's arms, getting sleepy again.

"Well," Bane said gleefully, "it just so happens that I am going to give your Father a break and take over as the Batman for awhile."

"Oh!" Damian said, excitement waking him up slightly more. "That is good news! My Father has not been well." Bruce groaned.

"So I have been told by _everyone_," he said wearily. "And what's this about you contacting Harley Quinn to get me therapy?" he asked his son.

"Tim found her secret profile on Facebook," Damian said. "But it was my idea. You needed help, Father," Damian said to him seriously. "And Gotham City needs protection. We could not let you take us off patrols."

"Well, I suppose it was helpful," Bruce admitted. "Your brother actually called me today and we talked some. Before I had to go rushing out to save your stupider brother and sister."

Damian actually giggled at that but he said, "I thought Harley Quinn saved them. She kept yelling at me on your phone."

"Well, she did help," Bruce said, rolling his eyes.

"She helped you not get your ass kicked," Bane clarified. "Harley is my _girl_, Little Bat. Me and her go way back."

"So you can help convince my brother to make up with my Father," Damian said with satisfaction, "if you are friends with Harley."

"Of course I will," Bane promised sincerely. "I am here to help your Father and all of you little Batbabies out the best I can."

"Good," Damian said happily, reaching out a hand towards Bane, who squeezed it gently in his. Bruce's breath caught in his throat because he had never - _never_ \- seen Damian initiate affection with anyone. Except for his battered old teddy bear Osito that he had been dropped off with by Talia.

"Osito was yours, Bane?" Bruce asked him as they walked through the hallways of the mansion to get to Damian's room.

"Yes, my only friend when I was a child," Bane said fondly. "I carried him with me everywhere in the prison and one day he saved my life, Little Bat."

"With his secret knife?" Damian asked innocently, causing Bruce to give first him and then Bane a hard look.

"Eh, Bruce, it was a prison," Bane said defensively. "Osito protected me and then I protected him all the rest of the years of my life. Until I met Little Killer, here - Little Bat, excuse me," he corrected himself with his new moniker for Damian "- and knew that he was the reason why I had continued to care for Osito all these years."

"And now he's my best friend," Damian said contentedly.

"Good, Little Bat, I am very glad to hear that," Bane said sincerely. "And now you have many more friends, yes?"

"I guess," Damian said, a little unsure, looking at Bruce. "Are Stephanie and Tim and Dick my friends? Or my colleagues?" Bruce's eyes got a little sad at that and he actually squeezed Damian a little tighter on his own.

"Your friends _and_ your family," he answered him. "Alfred, too. And Bane, I'm assuming," he said, looking at Bane for confirmation.

"Bane, of course," Bane answered, ruffling Damian's hair. "Bane first, before all the others, eh, Little Bat?" Damian nodded a yes with a little smile on his face.

They walked into Damian's room and Bruce set him down on the bed. "Pajamas and teeth," he told him, but Damian grabbed Osito off the bed first and handed him to Bane.

"Ahhh, Osito," Bane said tenderly, cradling the bear in his arms and giving him a little kiss. "Mi amigo," he murmured. "I am pleased to hear that you have been doing such an excellent job taking care of Little Bat here," he said to the bear with a smile, giving him another kiss on his nose before handing him back to Damian who carefully placed him back on his pillow.

"I'll show you to a guest room while Damian gets ready for bed," Bruce said to Bane. "I'll be back in two minutes to tuck you in, Damian," Bruce said to him.

"Yes, Father," Damian answered, pulling pajamas out of his dresser.

"Thank you," Bruce said to Bane after walking him into an empty suite. "For everything, but especially for Damian." He shook his head, his eyes watering. "What she did to him…" Bruce sniffed and wiped his eyes. "I didn't know you had anything to do with him coming here. Or with Osito," Bruce added with a small smile.

"Well, I didn't know I had to do with him coming _here_, either," Bane said, "but to leave a child in circumstances like those, after what I had been through? No," he said firmly. "I would have gladly sacrificed myself to the Venom and died destroying Talia and Ra's al Ghul rather than let the Little Killer remain there."

"Thank you," Bruce said again, although it seemed inadequate. Bane nodded at him.

"You will check on the Batgirl and Batboy?"

"Robin," Bruce finally corrected with a smile.

"Batboy is so much more charming," Bane protested. Bruce chuckled.

"Yes, I'll call their cellphones. Knowing how long Gotham ER can take, I wouldn't be surprised if Stephanie doesn't have her cast on yet."

"I am sorry for breaking her ankle," Bane said seriously, "but she and the boy fighting me together, I was worried I would hurt one of them badly if I didn't disable her."

"I understand," Bruce said. "And, I'm glad she'll be out of commission for awhile, honestly." Bane shook his head at him.

"No place for overprotective fathers in Gotham, Bruce," he reminded him. Bruce just waved a tired hand at him as he turned to leave.

"I'll still take a broken ankle," he said as Bane grinned. "Good night," he added.

"Good night, Bruce," Bane said.

Bruce knocked on the door of Damian's room. "You ready, son?" he asked.

"Yes, come in, Father," Damian said. He was lying under his covers with Osito next to him, as always, the one mystifyingly childlike feature about his little boy who had always seemed so cold and grown.

"Teeth are brushed?" Bruce checked with him, coming over to the bedside.

"Yes," Damian answered.

"All right," Bruce answered, brushing Damian's hair back in much the same way that Bane had earlier. "I didn't know that you knew Bane," he said to him.

"He has never come to town before," Damian said.

"Not since you've been here, I guess," Bruce thought out loud. "I'm glad he got your mother to bring you here," Bruce added sincerely.

"Me, too," Damian said seriously, and the fact that he didn't even hesitate in his answer touched Bruce's heart. He leaned down to kiss Damian's forehead as he always did.

"Good night, son," he said gently.

"Good night, Father," Damian answered. Bruce kissed the bear's forehead next, as Damian had insisted on since he first arrived.

"Good night, Osito," Bruce said gently.

Damian listened intently for a minute, then said to Bruce, "Osito says good night."

"Sleep tight," Bruce added like he normally did as he stood to leave. Then he paused. "I love you," he said for the first time, the words feeling uncomfortable in his mouth but necessary.

"You do?" Damian asked him, making Bruce's heart freeze with more self-hatred over his shitty parenting skills.

"I do," he said, though, adding, "I'm not - I'm not very good at saying it. But I will do better," he promised.

"Oh," Damian said thoughtfully. "I love you, too, Father," he pronounced.

"You do?" Bruce asked him back, half-wondering if Damian with his lack of social skills was just parroting the words to him, surmising that it was expected.

"Of course I do," Damian said, honestly surprised at Bruce's question. "You're my Father." The tears flooded back into Bruce's eyes and he bent down to give Damian another kiss and to ruffle his hair up before leaving the room.

"Sleep tight," he said one more time, pulling the door shut behind him as he left before making his way to his own bedroom where he shut the door and bawled like a baby.


	4. Chapter 4

_A/N Once again, part of this chapter was inspired by author TheNavia and her story "Jason Todd Overthinks Hugs." Check it out, it's great!_

_**Chapter 4**_

When Bruce finally got himself together and stopped crying, he pulled out his phone to check his texts. Sure enough, there was a slew of messages from Tim and Stephanie: _At the hospital. Still here. Still waiting. Triaged. Waiting room again. _On and on. Bruce scrolled down to the last one and checked the time stamp, noting it was about twenty minutes ago. _On our way home. _

Bruce grunted to himself wearily and got up to go wait for them downstairs, figuring they'd be home anytime. He gloomily turned on a light in the sitting room by the front door, kicking his feet out from the chair as he slumped in what was becoming his new normal posture. He didn't bother scrolling through his phone or even thinking about the events of the evening as he waited but just shut his eyes and folded his hands on his stomach, sleepy from his and Bane's hefty amount of drinking earlier, worn out from walking home drunk from the cemetery, which had taken about two hours - he'd been slacking off on workouts since Jason's gut-wrenching accusations - and exhausted emotionally from talking to Jason, finally, for the first time since they'd fought. Not to mention the oddity of _Bane_. Yeah, Bruce definitely needed to sleep.

He woke up when the front door opened and Tim and Stephanie shuffled in, Stephanie swinging herself on crutches. "Hey, B, you waited up," she said as she saw him sitting in the armchair like a worried father.

"Of course I waited up," he grumbled, although he knew that there was no 'of course' about it given his depression of the last few weeks and absence from their lives.

"Hi, Bruce," Tim muttered, looking anywhere but at him.

"Sit," Bruce growled to both of them, pointing to the couch in front of him. Tim and Stephanie sighed and made their way over to the couch, Tim helping Stephanie to sit as she tried to awkwardly manage her broken ankle and crutches. Bruce glared at the both of them for a long minute with his hardest Bat stare, causing Stephanie to gulp and blush and Tim to squirm uncomfortably.

"I _told_ you," Bruce started, "that patrols were off limits." His eyes got harder. "I locked you out of the BatCave." Then his voice raised. "And then I find you out fighting _Bane_ \- _**alone**__ \- _with no backup. Care to explain yourselves?" he growled at them.

Tim took a deep breath. "Well, Bruce, um, the city still needed protecting…" he began hesitantly.

"Not your job when I say it's not," Bruce countered harshly.

"It _is_ our job!" Stephanie burst out, causing both Bruce and Tim to look at her in surprise. She pointed a finger at Bruce and began jabbing it. "You can stop being the Bat if you want to, B, and you can abandon Gotham, but you have _no right_ to tell us to stop. This is our life and our city and you can't force us to give up protecting it just because you got scared." Tim gasped in horror but Bruce just eyed Stephanie coldly, letting her talk.

"People _need _us!" Stephanie insisted. "Gotham needs us. Even Damian sees that! And to be fair," she continued when she saw Bruce's ire start to rise at the mention of Damian, "we did _not_ let Damian go out on patrol. We're not idiots," she snapped at him.

"Not _idiots?_" Bruce yelled at her. "You were fighting _Bane, _Stephanie!" he yelled at her. "You both could have gotten killed! He broke my _back_ before, for fuck's sake, when you were still in diapers!"

"Not diapers," Tim mumbled, unable to let the chronological exaggeration slide, but Bruce was still ranting.

"What kind of _idiot_ doesn't retreat and call for backup when motherfuckin' _Bane_ appears?" he yelled at them in both anger and frustration, sliding his hands through his hair. "I could have lost you _both!" _he said to them, still in anger, but with a broken note of paternal agony and guilt slipping into his voice at the end.

Stephanie deflated. Slightly ashamed, she looked over at Tim, who was hanging his head like a scolded puppy. She bit her lip.

"I - I'm sorry, B," she said quietly. "That part _was _stupid, I guess," she conceded. "But not the rest," she frowned, folding her arms, unwilling to totally back down from her convictions. "And if you'd been working with us like you should have been instead of hiding, you wouldn't have let us be such idiots!" she added with a triumphant scowl. Tim's eyes bugged out at Stephanie's boldness and he fearfully looked over at Bruce to see his reaction.

Bruce was staring at her like she was some kind of alien. He scrubbed his face with his hands and looked up to heaven. "Daughters…" he muttered in some sort of prayer for assistance. "Why are girls so much more difficult?" he asked the Universe.

"Because men have pea-brains and girls are smarter but men have such fragile egos that they can't admit it," Stephanie sassed right back at him. Bruce dropped his eyes from the ceiling to look at her. She met his eyes right back with fiery defiance. Bruce sighed, rubbing a hand over his unshaven jaw but it was partly to hide his smile.

"In the future," he said, but it was with less menace, "you will _not_ go out on patrol without Batman. _No. Exceptions._" he said to both of them, meeting both of their eyes in turn. Tim immediately nodded but Stephanie stared him down. "And what if you're holed up in your room and won't come out?" she asked him suspiciously.

"As it happens, that will no longer matter," Bruce said to her calmly, with a slightly evil smirk on his face, "because I have decided to step back from being Batman for the time being and have secured an _excellent_ replacement. One who I'm sure that you'll enjoy working with and learning from," he added with a wicked smile.

"Who is it?" Tim asked with an almost scientific curiosity. Stephanie, however, seemed slightly tongue-tied and nervous as she read some promised payback in Bruce's tone.

"Bane," Bruce said, rolling his name off his tongue with suppressed glee. Tim's eyes widened and Stephanie actually looked slightly afraid.

"_Bane?_" Tim asked him to verify that his ears were still working properly.

"Bane," Bruce repeated, smiling as he sat back and watched their dismay grow. Tim and Stephanie glanced at each other, having a silent conversation with their eyes.

"Bane who broke your back?" Stephanie asked Bruce cautiously when she turned back to him.

"Yes," Bruce said calmly.

"Bane who broke Stephanie's ankle?" Tim asked him.

"Yes," Bruce repeated. Tim and Stephanie both swallowed.

"Um, why Bane?" Tim asked Bruce, his natural desire for answers and riddles explained pushing him to probe the mystery.

"Because he's sober. He offered. And he wants to make amends," Bruce said honestly, deciding that he'd wrung an appropriate amount of regret and shame out of them for scaring him half to death earlier.

"Oh," Stephanie said in surprise, not sure how to react.

"And," Bruce added, "he knows Damian," he said, his voice still colored with shock over that revelation. He rubbed the back of his head. "Apparently Bane was the one who saved Damian from Talia, he threatened her into giving him up. Although, he didn't know it would be to me," Bruce said with a half-chuckle.

"Oh!" Tim and Stephanie said together, in mutual wonder but with a softer tone.

"Well, if he saved Damian…" Stephanie said, trailing off.

"And he threatened _Talia?_" Tim added, sounding suitably impressed.

"And Ra's," Bruce added, giving that momentous fact appropriate weight. "He said he would've OD'd on Venom to kill them and set Damian free to a better life."

"Wow," Stephanie said softly. She looked at Bruce. "You trust him?" she asked him. Bruce gave a self-deprecating laugh but he nodded slowly.

"I do," he said. "He… seems like not a bad guy when he's sober. And _Damian_ likes him," Bruce added, truly awed and mystified.

"_Damian_ likes him?" Tim echoed. "Damian hates everybody."

"I know," Bruce said. "Bane gave him Osito, too."

"Whaaat?" Stephanie said. She and Tim glanced at each other again as if to read minds. "Well…" Stephanie said. She hesitated. "He'll take us out on patrol?" she asked Bruce.

"Oh yes, he's quite eager to… how did he put it… 'protect the little Batlings.'" Bruce chuckled. But he rubbed his neck suddenly, appearing embarrassed. "He said," Bruce struggled to continue, and then sighed. "I never explained to you why I've been upset."

"We know," Stephanie said.

"Damian eavesdropped on you and Dick," Tim explained. Bruce rolled his eyes.

"Of course he did," he muttered. "Well, that simplifies things. So… Bane said -" he regrouped to gather a little more courage before continuing. "He said that you two were well-trained and that you'd be safe fighting with him. As safe as you can be, doing what we do," Bruce clarified, looking at each of them seriously to make sure they still understood exactly what they were risking each time they put the suits on. Tim and Stephanie both nodded at him.

"And Bane said that Jason was different, that I… that Jason only became Robin to please me because I'd adopted him. I didn't know," Bruce admitted brokenly, looking at Tim and Steph with guilt-stricken eyes. "I wasn't a good father, I just did what I thought was right, I didn't know…" he said before taking a deep breath. "And I should have. I'm not making excuses," he said to them. "But the rest of you, Dick and Damian included, approached me. You wanted to wear the suits and fight. And he said I should let you," Bruce finished quietly. "And that he'd keep you safe."

"So yes," he went on, finding it hard to meet Steph's eyes which were now filled with sympathetic warmth towards him, and Tim's which were filled with pity, "you two can keep being Robin and Batgirl. _Under_ Bane's supervision," he said with more threat in his voice. "And only under his supervision. If you pull this independent shit again, you are out of the suits and out of the mansion and out of my life. Do you understand me?"

"Yes," Tim answered gravely.

"Yes," Stephanie echoed, meaning it this time. "I promise, B," she added softly.

"Good," Bruce said, standing up. "Now, let's go to bed. I'm fucking exhausted," he grumbled.

"And hungover?" Tim asked, getting a sharp Look that made him gulp and look down. As Stephanie got her crutches from Tim as they stood and prepared to move past him, Bruce stopped her with a hand on her arm.

"Wait," he said firmly. Stephanie looked at him.

"Yeah, B?" she said. Bruce sighed heavily, looking up to the ceiling again for a minute. Then he looked back down at Stephanie and awkwardly held his arms out.

"Hug," he said gruffly.

"Oh!" Stephanie said, warmly surprised. She hopped forward a little bit and Bruce came to meet her, gingerly putting his arms around her. Steph was a good hugger, though, and she leaned forward and squeezed Bruce's chest without hesitation, giving him the confidence to squeeze her back a little bit, too.

"I love you," Bruce ground out with difficulty. Stephanie's eyes widened to saucers.

"I love you, too, B," she said a little dazedly, now staring at him like _he _was the alien.

"And I forgive you," Bruce added very, very reluctantly, causing Stephanie to gently push on her eyeballs to make sure that they didn't fall out of her head.

"Um, thanks, B," she said slowly. "I, um, forgive you, too," she said to him. "For abandoning us," she added when he raised an eyebrow in confusion at her. He sighed.

"Ok, that's fair," he muttered, almost to himself. Stephanie had to bite back a giggle as Tim handed her back the crutches which she had dropped to the floor to hug Bruce. She slowly swung into the foyer as Bruce held his arms out to a very, very confused and nervous Tim.

"Hug," Bruce growled at him. Tim looked at Bruce's arms as awkwardly as Bruce was holding them out.

"Um, ok," Tim said, trying to gauge how many steps to take forward, exactly where and how to put his arms around Bruce, how hard to press -

"Oh, for God's sake," Bruce groaned, abruptly crowding forward and squeezing him into a bear hug in frustration at their mutual dance of tentative shyness.

"I love you, too," Bruce muttered to him as they pulled away, actually reaching out to ruffle Tim's hair on top of the hug.

"Oh, um, thanks, Bruce," Tim said hesitantly. "I, um, love you, too," he managed to squeak out, although his face was bright red and he looked like he'd rather sink through the carpet than say it.

"Good," Bruce sighed. "You're a good son," he said to Tim honestly, causing Tim to blink in surprise and actually tear up. "First time you've ever caused me trouble," Bruce said with a reluctant half-smile. "Which I forgive you for," he added heavily, rolling his eyes to heaven again, although Tim began to wonder if perhaps he was rolling them upstairs towards Bane whose influence _had _to be responsible for the remarkable change in Bruce's actions as Bane was the only newly introduced variable to the BatFamily equation which, until now, had been flowing in its normal pattern, undisturbed except by Jason's intervention of a few weeks ago, which of course was another new variable -

"Stop thinking so hard and go to bed," Bruce said to him, but he said it affectionately, and Tim actually smiled.

"Are you coming?" he asked Bruce.

"Yeah," Bruce muttered, turning out the light as he followed Tim out to the foyer. They quickly caught up to Stephanie who had just barely made it to the stairs but was actually doing quite well at navigating them with her crutches.

"How long until your cast comes off?" Bruce asked her as he and Tim slowly followed her up the stairs, not saying anything to each other but carefully positioned one on each side of her and a step behind so they could catch her if she stumbled.

Stephanie frowned hard. "At least six weeks, they said, it was a bad break."

"No shit," Bruce grumbled. "It was only fucking _Bane_," he added with one last zing. Stephanie sighed heavily, but it was the overly dramatic and annoyed sigh of a put-out teenager who could not take _anymore _of her parent being a parent.

"Yes, _Bane," _she snarked. "Your new BFF."

"What the hell is a BFF?" Bruce asked her as they continued making their way upstairs.

"Best Friend Forever," Stephanie replied to him. Bruce snorted.

"That would be Alfred," he contradicted her. Stephanie groaned but Tim had a slight smile of amusement on his face and Bruce, seeing it behind Steph's back, caught his eye and winked at him, causing him to actually laugh out loud.

"Are you two laughing at me?" Stephanie said accusingly, trying to turn around on the stairs with her crutches to face them, but Bruce and Tim simultaneously pushed her back forward. "Hey!" she said in mock anger.

"Grab her other arm," Bruce said to Tim with a playful smirk on his face. Tim caught on in a flash and before Steph knew what was happening, Bruce and Tim had lifted her and carried her the rest of the way up the stairs.

"Hey!" Stephanie said again, but then realized that was a stupid response to being helped so she just pouted. Halfway playfully, though.

"Go to bed," Bruce said, ruffling her hair this time, too. "Wait -" he said to her.

"Another hug?" Stephanie asked eagerly, getting ready to drop her crutches and attack him.

"_No!_" Bruce growled quietly, not wanting to wake Damian. "Did they give you oxycontin for your ankle?" he asked her with a glower.

"Yeah," Stephanie said. "But just a little bit -" Bruce held his hand out for the bottle. "But, B -" Stephanie tried to protest but Tim was already pulling it out of her pocket and depositing it in Bruce's outstretched hand.

"You are _not _getting hooked on this shit," Bruce snapped at her. "Motrin will work just fine." Stephanie tried to groan and protest but Bruce gave her a sharp look. "Are you Batgirl?" he asked her pointedly.

"Yes," she muttered.

"Then suck it up, buttercup," he said to her, patting her patronizingly on the head. Stephanie sighed. "Go to bed," Bruce ordered her and Tim.

"Fine," Stephanie muttered, swinging off down the hall again with Tim following her.

"Good night, Bruce," Tim said quietly, looking back at him.

"Good night, son," Bruce said, which gave Tim the oddest lump in his throat. "Good night, daughter," he called after Stephanie.

"Night, B," she sighed back at him, letting go of her attitude, because, really, how could she be mad after Bruce called her his daughter? He hadn't adopted her and Tim; in fact, she honestly hadn't thought that he considered them family. More like annoying pesky hangers-on who wouldn't let him go. She blinked away some tears as she made it to her doorway.

"Night, Tim," she said quietly. They looked at each other and they didn't need to say that the mutual happy sheen of tears in their eyes was due to Bruce labeling them as his children.

"Night, Steph," Tim said to her, taking a crutch so she could hug him, because he knew she had to. She never let him go without a hug. At least with Stephanie he didn't have to think about what to do. She made it easy for him.

Stephanie glanced back down the hall as she turned to go into her room and saw Bruce still standing there, watching to make sure she got in safely. She smiled at him as she went and she could swear she saw a glimmer of an answering smile back.

Tim walked down to his room and turned back, too, not really expecting Bruce to still be there since he wasn't on crutches like Stephanie - but he was. Tim half raised his hand in an awkward wave which Bruce answered with a little nod before Tim, too, entered his room. Closing the door and leaning against it, he felt the tears start to prick his eyes with more intensity.

Was he the favorite Robin? Honestly, he still didn't think so. But - Bruce _loved _him? And thought of him as his son? Well, holy shit.

Inside her room, as Stephanie made her way to her bathroom to brush her teeth, she felt a cozy warmth inside her heart that she hadn't felt for a long, long time. _Family_, she thought to herself with a smile.

Down at the end of the hallway, Bruce grunted in satisfaction as both Stephanie and Tim made it into their rooms. He turned to walk to his own room, pausing to lay a quiet hand on Damian's closed door. He wouldn't open it to check on him - he'd likely find himself with Osito's hidden knife stuck in his throat, knowing how tightly wound his little assassin son was - but he listened for a moment, soothed by the silence on the other side.

With a sigh, Bruce walked down to his bedroom and shut the door, groaning a little bit to himself at the difficulty of raising children. After he got ready for bed and flopped wearily onto it, he found himself still too stressed out to fall asleep. Despite being worn out as all hell. "Kids," he muttered to himself, pulling out his phone to amuse himself until his brain relaxed a little bit.

With a sudden twinkle in his eye, he googled "BFF" and clicked on the "Shopping" link. Soon a wicked smirk was on his face as he made purchase after purchase. When his mission was completed to his satisfaction, Bruce felt calmer - like he always did after a patrol, or a fight, or a successful investigation. It was only his kids that riled him up so badly, he thought to himself. But, in 3-5 business days, he could look forward to a little payback, he thought with some glee.

As he turned his phone off and rolled over in bed, pulling the covers up, Bruce couldn't help but smile one more time at the dramatic bundle of feistiness and heart wrapped up in Stephanie Brown. Barbara had saved all of her filial sass for her own dad, the Commissioner, so Stephanie was uncharted territory for Bruce. "Daughters…" he mumbled to himself again as he drifted off to sleep, but he had to admit, the word filled him with contentment.


	5. Chapter 5

Bruce felt like he had hardly closed his eyes before he heard the pounding on his door. He groaned, actually pulling his pillow over his head and ignoring the knocking. The kids were home. Bane wasn't trying to break his back again. Hell, Bane was _here_ sleeping a few doors down. Let him deal with whatever catastrophe had just hit Gotham. He wanted to become the Batman, anyway. Bruce was going to sleep, dammit.

But a second later, his door was opening and the lights were being snapped on, causing Bruce to growl in frustration. He was _not_ a morning person. Obviously. As any idiot knew. Bruce pushed himself up to a sitting position and hurled his pillow full force at the doorway in the same motion. The pillow hit Bane squarely in the chest, causing him to chuckle.

"Rise and shine, Bruce! We have a wonderful day ahead of us!"

"What. The. _Hell._" Bruce ground out, seething with anger and sleepiness. "What time is it, asshole?" he snarled.

"7 A.M.," Bane answered cheerfully, actually moving to Bruce's fucking windows to open the curtains. Bruce let out a strangled cry like a vampire bubbling into burned up oblivion as he launched himself out of bed, not even bothering to punch Bane as he went straight for the curtains, snapping them back shut.

"Get the hell out of my room!" Bruce shouted at Bane, shoving him in the chest. Not waiting for a reaction, Bruce stumbled to the light switch by the door and snapped it back off. He picked up his pillow from the floor. "_Out. Now._" he growled.

"Bruce," Bane said in a voice that managed to sound both hurt and pitying, "it's time to get up. We have a full day of work ahead of us. Lying in bed giving in to your depression is not healthy, my friend -"

Bruce threw his pillow back on his bed and stalked up to Bane's face, even though Bruce stood several inches below him and therefore had to direct his words up to him which greatly reduced the intimidation factor.

"In this house," Bruce said in a lethally quiet whisper, "we do not get up before one P.M. _No. Exceptions._" he added firmly. "Or did you somehow not realize that you were taking a _night _job?" Bruce asked him with a good half-ton of snark in his voice.

"We patrol until four or four-thirty at the latest. In bed by five. Up at one. Get the _fuck_ out of my room," Bruce hissed, grabbing Bane's meaty arm and trying, unsuccessfully, to pull him out. Bruce growled slightly louder when he failed to budge Bane and circled around to his back, which he started shoving. Hard.

Bane slowly let himself be walked out of the room. "Ay yi yi," Bane was muttering under his breath.

"_Night job!" _Bruce hissed again at Bane once he got him into the hallway. Honestly, he would've screamed it at him but he would've woken the kids up and while he might have screwed up a lot as a parent, he sure as hell wasn't going to set himself up for a day of cranky teenagers plus Damian by waking them up butt early in the morning. Some things he _had _learned.

Bruce clicked the door shut behind Bane, managing to do it quietly but conveying a lot of attitude at the same time. A disappointed Bane was left blinking in the hallway. Bane turned around slowly to take in the beautiful sunlight filtering in through the large windows in the downstairs foyer and sighed. Slowly, he trudged around the balustrade and down the grand staircase.

Promptly at 1:10 P.M., Damian's door opened and he stepped out dressed and showered, Osito in hand. He walked down the stairs in his calm, unhurried manner, each step precise as a soldier, and made his way to the kitchen.

"Oh! Bane," he said with some pleasure actually seeping into his voice when he saw his friend's massive bulk at the stove.

"Ah! Little Bat," Bane said affectionately, turning to greet him. "And Osito!" Bane said warmly. "Would you like some breakfast?" he asked them. "It is almost ready."

"Yes. Thank you," Damian said, setting Osito onto a stool at the island counter and going to pour himself some orange juice. "Alfred has not been cooking, lately," Damian said in disgust, wrinkling his nose. "I have had to eat cold _cereal_, Bane," Damian told him in horror as he walked back to Osito and climbed up on the stool next to him.

Bane raised an eyebrow, however, instead of pitying him as Damian expected him to. "And why have you not cooked your own breakfast, Little Bat?" he asked Damian seriously as he flipped some pancakes over on the griddle. Damian stared at him.

"It is not my job," he said like a little prince. "It is Alfred's job. Which he has been slacking on."

"And what will you do when Alfred is not here one day, Little Bat, or you are a full-grown Man Bat living on your own?" Bane asked him. Damian frowned.

"I do not know," he said. "Hire another butler, I suppose." Bane sputtered out a disbelieving laugh.

"So the Little Killer, the most skilled assassin in the League of Assassins, and this when he was six years old, he cannot cook his own breakfast? That task is too difficult for you?" Bane said teasingly. Damian folded his arms.

"I did not say that it was too difficult. I said that it was not my job. It is the butler's job to assist the crimefighter in maintaining prime fighting form by supplying him with nutritious and plentiful meals, being careful to plan the menu so as to represent all the food groups and -"

"Osito knows how to cook," Bane said nonchalantly, adding pancakes to the large platter that already boasted about a dozen. He stirred the huge pan of scrambled eggs that he had cooking as Damian answered him.

"He _does?_" Damian asked suspiciously.

"Oh, yes," Bane said. "Who do you think taught me to cook?" Damian narrowed his eyes at Bane who was now turning the bacon with a pair of tongs.

"So Osito can teach me to cook, then?" Damian asked him very skeptically.

"Alas, no," Bane murmured, shaking his head as he turned to catch Damian's eye. "Osito only knows the recipes in Spanish," he sighed.

"Hmph," Damian said, but one corner of his lips had turned the very tiniest bit up. Bane's eyes twinkled as he turned back to the stove and poured more pancake batter on the griddle.

"You must learn, though," Bane said to him. "I will instruct Alfred to begin teaching you."

"Why?" Damian asked.

"Because Alfred needs to stop moping about this great big house," Bane said to him, "and you need to learn to be more self-sufficient, my Little Bat." Damian's jaw dropped.

"You think that _I _am not self-sufficient?" he asked Bane, extremely offended.

"You cannot cook breakfast," Bane shrugged. Damian pressed his lips together tightly and Bane could almost feel the heat of the smoke rising from his ears. He grinned to himself as he heard Damian huff.

"Then I shall learn to cook breakfast," Damian said, his eyebrows drawn together in displeasure.

"Not just breakfast," Bane pointed out. "Lunch, dinner, dessert…" Damian huffed again and when Bane turned to look at him, he was struck by the ferocious intensity of purpose carved onto Damian's tiny face which hardly seemed big enough to hold such an adult determination.

"Hey, Little Bat," Bane said gently, feeling slightly startled, "learning to cook is part of being an adult. And part of being in a family, eh? It is a gift that you can share with others _or _with yourself. It is a good stress reliever after missions, too," he added. Bane set his spatula down and came over to Damian, who was still glaring but seemed lost and confused underneath his anger.

Bane stroked Damian's hair back from his forehead. "It is the pedestrian tasks that are the most difficult for people like you and me," Bane said to him honestly. "Not learning how to master the tasks, Little Bat, but learning how to relax when we do them. Learning that more than killing matters in this universe. Do you understand?" Bane asked him, searching Damian's eyes which started to relax infinitesimally.

"I don't know," Damian said, worry creasing his brow.

"It is not to worry, Little Bat," Bane comforted him. "The understanding will come with the doing. And Bane will guide you, eh? I have walked in your path and I wish for you a different end destination than mine."

"I like your end destination," Damian said to him in a confused voice. "You're here." Bane smiled with genuine warmth and he pulled Damian into a hug, even though Damian's eight-year-old arms barely stretched across the front of Bane's chest.

Damian turned his head sideways and actually relaxed into Bane's chest, closing his eyes as he remembered getting hugged two years ago for the first time in his life the day that Bane had walked into his mother's camp. It was the most oddly relaxing sensation, Damian thought to himself, thinking that no one else had really hugged him except Osito since his mother had brought him to Wayne Manor.

Bruce jerked to a halt in the kitchen doorway, feeling a lump in his throat as he saw Damian actually _snuggled_ into Bane, his posture relaxed and slumped like a little child's should be, for once. Tears pricked Bruce's eyes as his chest tightened. Was he _jealous?_ That was stupid, though, he should be glad that Damian was acting affectionate with anyone.

But the hollow ache in his heart was slowly ripping him apart as he stood there silently, not disturbing the moment. _I can't believe that motherfuckin' BANE is a better parent than I am,_ Bruce thought to himself, blinking through some tears and hating himself even more. He sniffed without meaning to as he brought his fingers up to his eyes to pinch some tears away.

Bane lifted his head and met Bruce's eyes, surprised at first and then oddly sympathetic as he took in Bruce's distress. Bane kissed the top of Damian's head before releasing him. "Here's your father," he said to Damian. "Come and hug your son 'good morning', Bruce," Bane ordered him matter-of-factly as he returned to the stove to finish dishing up breakfast.

"Oh," Damian said, turning around on his stool. "Good morning, Father," he said politely.

"Good morning, son," Bruce said to him gruffly, not wanting to show his tears. Bruce slowly walked over to Damian and, hesitating only a moment, tried to pull him into a hug and hold him the same way that he had seen Bane do. Damian's arms easily wrapped around his sides, though they couldn't quite meet in the back, and to Bruce's surprise, Damian squeezed him tight.

Bruce met Bane's eyes, which were regarding him with tender pride. Bane made a circling motion with his hand and Bruce slowly started to rub circles onto Damian's back which actually caused Damian to give a contented sigh and snuggle into him, absolutely shocking the hell out of Bruce. He looked back at Bane, jaw dropping slightly, and Bane gave him a little smile.

Bruce, too, kissed the top of Damian's head as he had seen Bane do before pulling away. "Bane says I need to learn how to cook," Damian informed him as soon as they broke apart.

"He's absolutely right," Bruce said as he picked up Osito and kissed the top of his head, too, before returning him to his stool. Damian's eyes lit up and a tiny pleased smile crossed his face as Bruce greeted his bear.

"What can I help you with, Bane?" Bruce asked, noticing that breakfast was almost done and wondering, guiltily, where Alfred was.

"Take these out to the table," Bane instructed. "Little Bat, go and wake up your brother and sister and Mr. Alfred and tell them the food's hot and to get down here."

"Yes, Bane," Damian said obediently, grabbing Osito as he ran like lightning out of the room. Bruce moved to take the platters that Bane had loaded up with food but before he could pick the first one up, Bane startled him by pulling him into a hug, squeezing him tight.

Bruce held himself rigidly at first and Bane sighed. "You need hugs, too, my friend. How can you help the Little Killer learn to receive affection if you yourself will not?" Bruce sighed and felt tears of frustration start to come.

"I don't know how to relax," he muttered. "It's not like I can just snap out of the tension," he said, feeling himself grow even tighter as he tried to force relaxation. Bane rubbed a soothing circle on his back as he made a noise of understanding.

"Just squeeze me back," he instructed. "Don't worry about the tension." Bruce felt more tears falling and wanted to be embarrassed, but hell, he'd cried so much these last few weeks, what was crying more at this point? He knew how to engage his muscles, that he could do, so he hugged Bane tighter as Bane held him and massaged his back.

Bruce stayed tensed for a second, but when Bane kept holding him tightly, and with his own arms actively engaged, Bruce felt the slightest ease of tension in his core and exhaled deeply.

"That's right," Bane said, releasing him but cuffing his cheek. "We will practice every day," he told Bruce seriously. "And you must practice with the others," he added. Bruce smiled with a little bit of embarrassed pride.

"I hugged Tim and Stephanie last night," he admitted.

"Good!" Bane cheered approvingly, handing him the eggs and bacon while he took the pancakes and grabbed the pot of coffee. They laid the food out on the table which Bane had apparently already set with plates, silverware, and coffee mugs.

"You did all this?" Bruce asked him, feeling a little guilty about how he'd snapped at Bane this morning. Not that he should be held responsible for what he did at 7 fuckin' A.M.

"Yes," Bane said. "I noticed the butler is not up and about and decided to cook." Bruce sighed.

"We've both been pretty out of it the last few weeks," he said.

"No more," Bane said briskly. "It is not good for either of you. But," he added, a little shamefaced, "I will learn to adapt myself to your sleep schedule," he said. Bruce groaned.

"I'm sorry I was such a bastard this morning," he said. "I'm not a morning person."

"So I have learned," Bane said with a little twinkle in his eye. "But, you were, in fact, correct. Being the Batman is a nocturnal pursuit and I must begin adjusting myself to such a life. Why do you end patrols at four?" he asked Bruce as he began to pour coffee into the mugs.

"Eh, we've noticed most criminal activity takes place between midnight and four," Bruce answered. "Once you get past four, you risk hitting daylight if you get stuck in a long fight, or for perps if they're pulling a long job. Seems like the world just prefers to wrap things up with a little darkness to spare." Bane nodded, soaking in the information as Bruce went on.

"The BatComputer does have auto-alerts for the super villains," he said. "There's always some idiot posting on social media instead of running like hell," he explained, "so I will get an alarm in my room if I need to go back out. And I won't miss handing that off to you at all," he grinned as Bane smiled.

"Also," Bruce said as Bane brought over the carton of orange juice, "it's better to get up at one and get some daylight in your system. Starts to affect your mental health if you never see the sun."

"That, I can understand," Bane said as Damian scampered back into the room, clearly eager for his breakfast to stay hot. Bruce could hear the click of Stephanie's crutches along the tiled floor and knew that Tim was most likely walking with her, like the protective mother hen that he was. _Not that that's a bad thing,_ Bruce thought with a little bit of shame.

He almost didn't hear Alfred enter the kitchen and saw with surprise that the butler was in his slippers and robe, face unshaven. "Master Bruce," Alfred sighed heavily as he moved to the table. Bruce noticed that Bane was also taking in Alfred's disheveled look with some pitying concern, although he didn't comment on it.

"Morning, everybody!" Stephanie said as she and Tim came in. "Oh!" she said, her eyes widening at seeing Bane in the kitchen.

"Come and sit down," Bruce told her and Tim, who had jerked to a stop next to her. "Food's getting cold. This is Bane, by the way," he said to the two of them with an evil smirk. "I believe you've met his foot," he said to Stephanie, who bit her lip and hung her head.

"Bruce," Bane chided him gently.

"Stephanie and Tim," Bruce said to him, ignoring his reprimand and introducing Batgirl and Robin without their masks. "And Alfred," he added. Alfred was looking most puzzled.

"Have I missed something, Master Bruce?" he said slowly.

"You've missed a lot," Damian said matter-of-factly. "You've been hiding upstairs for two weeks."

"My apologies, Master Damian," Alfred at least had the good grace to murmur, seeming to just now realize that he hadn't been caring for his younger charges. "But… _Bane_, sir?" he asked Bruce.

"Bane is sober now," Bruce said as he and Bane took their seats, ending up next to each other at the table by accident. Or maybe not by accident, considering that Damian was on Bane's other side and the rest of his family was trying to avoid sitting next to Bane.

"And," Bruce went on, "as the rest of us discussed yesterday," he said, glancing at the three Batlings, "Bane will be taking on the role of Batman while I… recuperate," he said slowly, not sure how to describe his future plans. Because, honestly, he had no idea what they were.

"Bruce will be working behind the scenes on training and detecting," Bane said in a no-nonsense tone, slipping right into the leadership role with no hesitation. "_Alfred_ will be resuming his butlering duties as of today," he said, meeting Alfred's eyes. "And he will also begin teaching Damian how to cook," Bane said, causing Tim's mouth to fall open as he sputtered out a laugh. Even Stephanie looked amused.

Damian's eyes took on an absolutely wicked gleam. "Stephanie and Tim do not know how to cook either," he said sweetly to Bane as he buttered a pancake. Bane frowned. "Then they shall also learn from Mr. Alfred," he said, causing the two older Bats to start to protest until he killed them back to silence with a single look. They glared at Damian who smiled peacefully back at them.

"You shall all be learning how to meditate with me," Bane said, continuing his list. "That, we will all do together as a family," he said, either unaware that he had inserted himself into the BatFamily as a member, or perhaps considering himself extended family through his relationship with Damian. "Daily," he added.

"What about school?" Tim said with worry.

"What about it?" Bane asked him casually. "You go to school?" he asked him when Tim glanced to his right at Stephanie instead of answering him.

"Yes," Stephanie said for him. "Me and Tim do. We're in high school. Damian is homeschooled."

"What about this not getting up until one P.M., blah blah blah?" Bane asked in confusion. "Is it a night school?"

"The one P.M. rule is just for the weekends," Tim said to him. "And for Bruce and Damian," he added. "Usually Alfred gets up with me and Stephanie during the week."

"And you also patrol during the week?" Bane asked them.

"We take turns," Stephanie said. "We don't usually go out together with Bruce on weeknights unless something big is going down. And we don't stay out as late on weeknights as on weekends," she added.

"And you are able to handle that?" Bane asked them, chewing on some bacon. They both nodded. "All right," Bane said easily. "We shall continue on like that, then."

Tim and Stephanie both sighed quietly in relief and lost some of the tension in their shoulders. Yesterday's episode with Harley Quinn yelling about children not belonging in the suits, period, and Bruce being ready to kick them off of the team for good had made them slightly nervous, even though Bruce had relented last night and promised that Bane would mentor them. Apparently Bane didn't take school and age restrictions as seriously as Harley did.

"But what about the cooking and meditating and training and homework?" Tim asked Bane with some concern.

"You can take your cooking lessons on the days when you do not patrol," he said to them. "And on the weekends. Meditation is a daily practice and one that will help you become better fighters as well," he added. "You know they say that I can control space and time," Bane said with a grin, "because of my inner calm when I fight. Which is from my meditation practice," he explained.

"And little Batgirl," Bane said to her, suddenly remembering that they needed to talk about yesterday's battle. "I regret having to break your ankle," he said seriously. "But you and the Batboy would have caused yourselves great injury in continuing to attack me if I had not disabled one of you. And you did not have the bo staff, so…" Bane shrugged. "It was easier to reach _your_ ankle."

"My name is Robin," Tim said, frowning at the same time that Stephanie said, "Oh," in a quiet voice, looking at Bruce for confirmation, who quietly nodded to her as he met her eyes.

"A batboy is something in baseball," Tim added, wanting to clear up the misunderstanding.

Bane waved his hand breezily as he drank some coffee.

"I prefer the term Batboy," he said, causing Bruce to have to bite back a giggle. There was something so damn endearing sometimes about Bane. Looking sideways at him as his bit his tongue, Bruce met Bane's eyes which were seeking his out to give him a small wink. Bruce began coughing, pulling his napkin up to his mouth to hide his laughter.

"Bruce!" Bane said in apparently puzzled and completely innocent concern. "Did something go down the wrong way?" he asked him, thumping on his back as it shook with silent laughter.

"You should chew more carefully, Father," Damian said, who had of course cut his food into tiny, precise little pieces and was chewing each one thoroughly before swallowing.

"Yes," Bruce answered him, getting ahold of himself and clearing his throat before taking a sip of coffee. "I will have to be much more careful of that," he said.

Stephanie noticed thoughtfully that the corners of Bruce's eyes were crinkled up like he was happy, and she thought with a pang that she had hardly ever seen Bruce look like that even before his recent fight with Jason. She smiled quietly to herself as she looked down at her breakfast, which was surprisingly well cooked, considering that Alfred hadn't made it. _Maybe we're going to be all right, _she thought, feeling hopeful again.

Tim was sulking a bit into his eggs, wondering if he was going to be the least favorite Robin with yet another Batman who hadn't even had two previous Robins. _Batboy_, he grumbled to himself. _Why is everything going to hell?_ he thought with frustration, beginning to realize that things were perhaps never going to go back to the way that they were before Bruce's breakdown.

_Is that… cardamom… in the eggs?_ Alfred wondered to himself, chewing slowly as he teased out the flavors with his palette. _How interesting,_ he thought to himself. _Perhaps I shall have to consult with Master Bane about his seasonings,_ he mused to himself, not even realizing that he wasn't thinking about his own morbid sense of guilt over Jason for the first time since that treacherous night.

Damian didn't have the word to describe it, but he knew that something felt different with Bane here, and he and Osito liked it very much. And his Father had hugged him that morning much more successfully than his pathetically futile first attempt last night, and Damian realized that he liked that, too, and not just because he valued competence.

Bane was feeling as peaceful and serene as he did every morning as he sipped his coffee and looked around the table at the BatFamily. _They need much help,_ he thought to himself, _but there is love here. It only needs to be nursed into full bloom. _

And Bruce? Bruce was feeling better for the first morning in a long, long time. It wasn't even fighting with Jason two weeks ago, he thought to himself, it was losing him seven years ago. Nothing had been right since then. Five years of thinking he was dead and gone. Five years of grieving.

Only to one day realize that the bloody outlaw Red Hood who had come to Gotham two years ago was, in fact, his dead son - which only prompted another round of grief and bitterness as Bruce had rationalized that it couldn't possibly be Jason's mind inside his body, if he hadn't come back to him, hadn't come back home.

And now - _My son is alive, _Bruce thought to himself in wonder. _And he actually called me yesterday and __**spoke**__ to me._ He smiled a little bit into his coffee. _Maybe… maybe one day he will forgive me, after all._

Bruce knew he didn't deserve it. He knew he couldn't ask for it. But, who would have thought he'd be sitting here at the breakfast table eating breakfast with the man who'd snapped his back six years ago? And laughing together with him like they might actually be friends. _Maybe there's hope_, Bruce thought, _even for me and Jason._


	6. Chapter 6

_A/N Trigger warning: Mention of childhood rape (not graphically described). Lemons ahead! Read at your own risk. Disclaimer: Do not kill people. This is a work of fiction. _

_**Chapter 6**_

_Last night_

"That was _not_ how I saw that phone call going down," Jason said to Harley as soon as they came in the door of their apartment. They had stopped at the safehouse on the way back to stow their gear and to clean Harley's horrific make-up job off of her face. It was already trending on social media, much to her intense irritation.

"I know," Harley said in amazement, shaking her head. She bit her lip. "How do you feel like it went, though? Before the whole 'save the batshit crazy BatFamily from Bane' thing?" Jason giggled.

"The batshit crazy BatFamily. We should get that on t-shirts for their Christmas presents," he said. Harley laughed out loud in delight.

"I _knew_ I was rubbing off on you!" she exclaimed with glee, clapping her hands.

"How'd you like to rub all over me?" Jason asked her with a sexy smirk, catching her in his arms and running a hand seductively over her butt.

"Um, _always_," Harley said enthusiastically, doing just that as she draped her arms around her husband's neck and began kissing him. He picked her up and started to carry her to the bedroom as she wrapped her legs around his waist, still kissing him.

"Shit!" Jason said, accidentally knocking her into the doorframe, although not too hard. "Sorry, baby," he said apologetically.

"Aw, was I impeding your vision?" Harley giggled back, running her hands through his hair.

"Well, I don't mind if you don't," Jason grinned at her, kissing her some more as he navigated her more carefully to the bed. "Can we shower first?" Jason asked her after setting her down as he started to get undressed. "I got all sweaty beating the Replacement into submission."

"I would not mind that _at. all." _Harley said with pleasure.

"Aw, you're so accommodating, baby," Jason complimented her, reaching a hand out to stroke her breast which she had just popped out of her bra.

"I aim to please," Harley said flirtatiously.

"What a coincidence. Me, too," Jason winked at her, picking his now naked wife up to carry her to the shower. He set her down for a minute in the cramped floor space in front of the sink to turn on the hot water and let it start heating up. Their apartment wasn't the best, but it definitely wasn't the worst, either, and on a good day it might only take a few minutes for the water to get hot.

Jason and Harley made excellent use of the time and were making out pretty passionately by the time steam started fogging up the bathroom mirror.

"After you, Mrs. Todd," Jason said to her, letting her lips go and sweeping open the shower curtain.

"Why, thank ya, Mistah Hood," Harley said back to him, stepping over the tub wall to get in. Jason followed her and grabbed the bottle of shampoo, squirting some into Harley's open hands before taking some for himself. Harley reached up and worked hers into Jason't hair, massaging his scalp as she went. Jason laughed.

"I should've waited to get mine," he said as it washed away down the drain when he realized that he couldn't reach Harley's hair conveniently at the same time.

"Oh, well," Harley said to him. "Easy come, easy go," she giggled. After she rinsed his hair out, Jason took another dollop and turned Harley around so he could work it into her long hair better. She sighed in contentment as he rubbed her scalp with his thumbs.

"Why does it feel so good when somebody else washes your hair, Jay-Jay?" she wondered as he took his time pampering her.

"I don't know," Jason answered her. "It's one of the mysteries of life, I guess," he said, starting to rinse the suds out. Harley sighed happily when he kept her in front of him to grab the shower puff, soaping it up with body wash before starting to run it up and down her front. Paying particular attention, of course, to his favorite spots.

She was wiggling and squirming backwards into his cock before he even got to her lower regions, but then the moaning really started. Jay grinned from behind her as he slid a soapy finger inside of her, dropping the sponge to run his other hand up and around her slick, wet boobs.

Harley clearly approved of the move, arching back into him as she brought her hands up and behind her to caress his wet head. "Fuck, Jay," she said happily, closing her eyes as she got closer to her orgasm. "I love you so fucking much," she said to him.

Jay leaned down and bit her shoulder. "I love you too, baby," he said back, continuing to nip at her until she came hard, grinding down on his fingers and tugging at his hair. Harley exhaled blissfully, cuddling back against Jason for a minute before bending down to grab the shower puff off the floor.

"Your turn, baby," she said with a grin. He smiled into her eyes as he handed her the body wash and he felt the warmest fuzzies inside at the careful way that Harley scrubbed him off, wanting to get all the sweat and dirt from combat off of him for his own sake, he thought, rather than hers.

"You looked so hot fighting," she told him with an honest little smile as she looked up into his eyes.

"Oh yeah?" Jason said to her, a pleased smirk appearing on his face.

"Yeah," Harley said. "_Totally_ hot."

"Well, I'm glad I could turn you on, Mrs. Todd," Jay said to her, who still wasn't tired of hearing his name pinned to his girl. He probably never would be, he thought; he still couldn't get over the fact that Harley Fucking Quinn, world's most amazing woman, was his wife.

"Don't get any ideas, though," Harley said suddenly with a sharper tone. "No going out fighting baddies just to impress me," she warned him.

"I won't," Jason promised easily. "Only when you need back-up on an amends, baby," he said, running his fingers through her wet hair. "Or when fucking Bane comes to town," he laughed, "and we have to save the -"

"- batshit crazy BatFamily!" Harley said together with him, causing both of them to break down laughing.

"We could get a punching bag, though," Jason said suddenly, his eyes lighting up. "For here or one of the safehouses. So I could show off for my girl." Harley's eyes lit up, too.

"_Yes,_" she said, biting her lip. Jay grinned to himself, because clearly Harley wasn't exaggerating about her excitement level. She squirted some body wash into her hands as she, too, ditched the shower puff, and began giving Jay a sexy hand job.

"Tell me what you'll do to that punching bag," she ordered him saucily, sliding her other hand up and down his pecs.

"Oh, baby," Jason said to her in a growl. "I'll start nice and easy, warming up with some slow punches. Nothing too hard at first, but just enough to get the juices flowing," he winked at her.

"Uh huh," Harley said to him, licking her lips as she began gently working his balls over. "Then what?" she asked with a giggle.

"Then," Jay said to her, groaning a little bit as she massaged him and sliding his own hand down to her folds, "I'm gonna use some upper cuts. I find that twisting thrusts always get a good result," he teased, bending down to kiss her as he demonstrated with his fingers inside of her. Harley moaned and moved her hand back to his cock, giggling as she twisted her fist around and over it, drawing moans out of Jay now, too.

"I concur," she said after a minute. "Twisting thrusts, very effective. What next? Upper cuts isn't your last move, is it?" she started to grin, changing to a heated whimper as Jay gave her one last exceptionally gifted thrust with his fingers.

"Oh, baby, you know that I don't ever finish until I'm pounding that bag as hard as I can and it's bouncing off of me, slapping my skin so hard that it'll still have the impression of my fist in it the next day," Jay said. Harley laughed as he turned her around and began fucking her hard.

A few minutes later, Harley moaned and convulsed around him in a massive orgasm, her toes curling as Jay pounded right into her g-spot. He fucked her right through it and into another one as he came inside of her, his cum leaking out and splashing down her thighs as Harley quivered around him, slowly coming down from her highs.

"God, baby," Harley murmured reverentially.

"Definitely gonna buy that punching bag," Jay murmured with a little smile, making her giggle as he pulled out. He helped Harley rinse her legs before turning the water off and then stepped out of the shower, helping Harley over the tub edge before taking one of their fluffy bath towels and drying her off. His insides melted a little bit when he met Harley's eyes and saw her adoring gaze, her pupils still a little wide from her climaxes.

Jason pulled her into a hug, cuddling her against his wet chest as she sighed into him. "I love you so much, baby," he told her, kissing the top of her head.

"I love you, too, Jay," Harley said, snuggling for another second before pulling her towel off and grabbing a dry one to rub him down with. As soon as he was relatively dry, Harley took his hand and led him back to the bed, crawling under the covers to escape the cool air on her wet skin. Jason climbed in beside her and wrapped his arms around her as she curled into him.

"You never told me how you felt about talking to your dad tonight," she reminded him a minute later.

"Oh," Jay responded. "I got a little distracted. By my fine woman," he grinned at her. Harley smiled and hugged him a little tighter.

"How are you doing, though?" she asked him. "I know you weren't expecting to talk to Bruce tonight at all."

"I know," Jason said wearily. "But… actually... " he chewed his lip. "I'm kind of glad we talked," he said. He sighed.

"Honestly, I never expected Bruce to take responsibility," he said slowly. "And to hear him cry like that…" Jason had to blink his own tears away in thinking about it.

"I know," Harley said. "That was unnerving, to say the least…" she trailed off. "I think he loves you very much," she said softly. "Despite fucking up, and he majorly fucked up. My opinion on that hasn't changed," she said.

"Mine neither," Jason said. He sighed again. "You're a therapist, baby," he said to her. "How… how do I make sense of hating him so much for what he did to me back then, when I loved him so much at the time and fucking _died _from it… to him being so sorry now? I don't know what to do with that," he said quietly.

"Well," Harley said thoughtfully. "The past is the past and he can't change it. All he can do is own it and do his best to make amends. That's how I live with what I've done, you know," she said to Jason.

"I know," he said, rubbing her back.

"How you go forward is really up to you, Jay," Harley said to him. "You can hold onto the anger and hatred and resentment, and God knows, you're entitled to. You can choose to forgive him but also choose not to rekindle a relationship. Or, you can forgive him and try to rebuild something new from the ashes." Jason frowned.

"I've never understood forgiveness," he said. "Like how is that not excusing him for what he did?" Harley frowned, too, as she looked for the words to explain it.

"Well, you're still being honest about how fucked up and wrong it was and how much it damaged you," she said. "But, forgiveness plus reconciling with him would mean starting from where you both are now, without denying the past but without letting it poison what you can be to each other going forward."

"Hm," Jason said, thinking it over. "Then what's forgiveness without keeping the relationship?"

"Oh," Harley said. "That's like Kesha's song 'Praying.' Like me and my stepdad. I will never speak to him again for raping me -"

" - he's still _alive?_" Jason growled, dangerously shifting into Red Hood mode.

"Um, yeah," Harley muttered. "I couldn't bring myself to kill him after killing Joker because it would've meant facing him again."

"I'll do it," Jason said in a voice that brooked no argument.

"You don't have to," Harley said softly.

"I do," Jason said with absolute certainty. "Give me his name later and I will take care of it." Harley kissed him.

"Will you take Bane with you for backup? Just so I feel better?" she asked him.

"Sure," Jason said to her. "But the guy's not like a super-criminal or anything, is he?"

"No," Harley said. "Just your average asshole pedophile. But I'll be worried about something happening to you if you go by yourself. If Bane goes, I'll be less anxious while you're gone."

"Ok," Jason said to her, kissing her tenderly. Harley smiled at him.

"So anyway," she said, resuming their conversation, "forgiveness without letting the person back in your life is like Kesha's song," she repeated. "She prays for him to become a better person instead of dwelling on how much she hates him."

"Oh," Jason said, thinking back to Bruce and their phone call. "I… I kind of want to make up with Bruce," he muttered. "But part of me feels like that makes me weak. Like I'm still that kid longing for Bruce to love him," he said, wiping some tears, "and I never wanted to be that much of a pussy again. It got me killed once."

"Well, you're not a kid anymore, Jay," Harley said to him encouragingly. "You're an adult now. You're not dependent on Bruce like you were as a kid. And part of what got you killed was running off without him, you know," Harley said, but with so much gentleness. "And I don't blame you for that at all, babe. You were a _kid _and he never should have made you Robin_._ But I don't think any situation you would face with Bruce going forward could ever make you as vulnerable as you were with him as a child." Jason heaved out a long sigh.

"I'll think about it," he said to Harley.

"Yeah, you don't need to rush into anything," she reassured him. "Go as slow as you need to." Harley laid her hand on his cheek. "But it's perfectly ok to want to love and reconnect with your father, Jason," she said softly, "considering that he's owning up to what he did. And think of all the amazing ways that we can annoy the BatFamily if you do," she added, snuggling tighter into him as Jay began to chuckle.

"We could totally give them those shirts," he said to her, reaching an arm over to turn out the lights so they could fall asleep.

"We totally could," Harley said with deep satisfaction and joy.


	7. Chapter 7

_**Chapter 7**_

_Earlier this morning_

Nightwing crawled into the window of Police Commissioner Barbara Gordon's Gotham City apartment just before dawn. He quietly took his armor off in the darkened living room and locked it in a battered old suitcase that he kept in the coat closet.

That task done, Dick Grayson crept into the bedroom where Babs was sound asleep, her red hair strewn across her pillow. He lifted the blankets and crawled into bed beside her, curling himself around her to spoon her which caused her to stir a little bit.

"Dick?" she whispered.

"I'm here," he whispered back. "I'm glad you're safe, baby," he added, giving her an extra tight squeeze around her waist that she snuggled into.

"Me, too," she muttered. "What time is it?" she asked him sleepily.

"Around five," Dick answered her.

"'Kay," Babs answered, sinking back to sleep.

Two hours later, when the alarm went off, Dick opened his eyes instead of sleeping through it like he normally did. Barbara was already throwing an arm out of bed to turn it off but Dick held onto her waist and pulled her back into him afterwards instead of letting her get up.

"Hi," Babs said to him in surprise, knowing that he usually preferred to spend time with her after she got off work at five rather than first thing in the morning when he'd been patrolling Bludhaven all night.

"I just needed to see with my own eyes that you were really ok," Dick said to her gently, brushing some hair back from her face and looking her over intently. Babs smiled at him.

"I really am," she told him, giving him a little kiss. "Bane walked off with Bruce after it all went down and we didn't hear anything else about him for the rest of the night. Oh, except for him saving some liquor store clerk from a hold-up," she laughed. "Cutest selfie on instagram. You should check it out."

Dick smiled at her but then he chewed his lip. "He really seemed sober to you? And not like he was luring Bruce away to hurt him again?"

"He seemed _nice_," Barbara said, still surprised over last night's oddity. "And no, Bruce and he seemed fine. They worked together to catch King Snake and Bane seemed downright cheerful afterwards, when he talked to me."

"I feel like I ought to check in with Bruce, just to be safe," Dick worried to her, "but... " he sighed. "I haven't spoken to him since we fought." Barabara sighed at that but she didn't say anything.

Instead, she gave Dick another little kiss and said, "I have to get up and get ready for work. Love you."

"Love you," Dick echoed back to her. He stayed sitting up in bed as Barbara got out of it and turned the lights on. When she padded into the bathroom to shower, he sighed and got up to make coffee for her.

Worry over Bruce was gnawing in his stomach. All Dick could think about was the hellish year after Bane had broken his back and as much as Bruce's current state angered him, the truth was, Bruce wasn't well. Hell, he'd never seen the man cry except when Jason had first died. But the way he was beating himself up recently over Jason being Robin - Dick groaned and felt the anger rising up in him again towards Bruce.

Bruce just didn't see how Jason had taken advantage of him and been nothing but ungrateful. Or how wild Jason was, or how dangerous, or how if Jason had just _listened _to him he wouldn't have died in the first place; but no, nothing was Jason's fault. Nothing ever was Jason's fault.

What kind of bullshit was that? Hell, Bruce had fired Dick from being Robin and Jason didn't even have the grace to appreciate what he'd been given? _What the fuck,_ Dick thought angrily, getting himself more and more worked up as the shower ran and the coffee dripped down into the carafe.

When Barbara came out dressed in her police uniform, Dick handed her a mug of coffee as he said, "Babs, would you mind calling Bruce today to make sure he's ok? I feel like it would be better coming from you than me at this point and I think since he went off with Bane last night that somebody ought to check on him."

Barbara hesitated. "Dick…" she said, pausing for a minute. "I… really don't want to get in the middle of this problem you're having with Bruce." Dick frowned.

"I'm not asking you to get in the middle of it, babe," Dick said to her. "I'm asking you to call and check up on him." Barbara tried to keep her voice gentle.

"I'm not the one who's concerned about him." Dick could feel his temper start to rise.

"So, what, you won't do this for _me_? You _know_ how things are between us right now!" Babs took a breath.

"Things between you two," she said quietly, "are about the same way they always are."

"What's _that_ supposed to mean?" Dick asked her, his breathing starting to get faster even though he was trying so damn hard not to yell at his girl.

"Baby," Babs said to him, looking at him sadly, "you and Bruce have never dealt with him firing you from being Robin. And until you do, I think you're going to keep having the same fight with him over and over." Dick exhaled sharply.

"This _isn't_ the same fight, Babs!" he said with irritation. "_This _is about Jason! And how Bruce can't see what a manipulative little sonofabitch he is! God, he has got Bruce so tied up in knots right now, over _what?_" Dick exploded. "Over being _Robin?_ What the fuck, Babs, he didn't have to be Robin if he didn't want to. He's damn lucky he _was_ Robin and that Bruce was willing to train him in the first place. He -"

Barbara turned away from Dick, coffee cup in hand, to go stare out of the window. Dick stared after her.

"_What?_" he practically snarled at her. Barbara pinched her eyebrows with one hand.

"Baby, listen to yourself. This isn't about Jason. It's about Robin. And Bruce. And you."

"What the _hell?_" Dick burst out. "Are you serious? Have you even been listening to me?"

"Oh, I've been listening," Barbara said very quietly.

"So what, you're taking his side now?" Dick asked her, starting to get furious. Barbara turned to look at him, meeting his eyes squarely and Dick saw some flames of anger licking up in her pupils.

"I am on _your_ side, Dick. Now and forever," she said to him heatedly. "And maybe if you believed that, you'd take what I'm saying seriously. This is about _you_ and you are letting the past eat you up inside and it is ruining your relationships with everyone you love." Dick's jaw dropped as he felt himself start to lose control.

"So I've ruined our relationship, now, is that what you're saying?" he said in a cruel tone of voice.

"_No, _Dick," Barbara said with patient irritation, "you know damn well that's not what I'm saying."

"You know what?" Dick said to her. "Forget this. Forget I brought it up. I'm gonna head back to Bludhaven. I don't know when I'll be back. Maybe never," he muttered as he went to the closet to get his suitcase full of gear.

"Sure, run away like you always do!" Barbara snapped at him. Dick's head whirled around to look at her.

"What did you just say to me?" he asked her menacingly.

"Here goes Dick Grayson, running again from a fight!" Barbara yelled at him sarcastically. "What a surprise. One little conflict and he's out the door _again_. Like always."

"What the fuck, Barbara?" Dick said to her angrily. "What's the point of staying here if we're fighting? Clearly we can't get along and maybe we don't even belong together. Hell, if we can't even have a conversation -"

"_You _can't have a conversation!" Barbara interrupted him. "_You _can't have an argument! People fight, Dick! They fight and they make up and they work it out! That is how life works. But not you," she spat out. "Oh, no, not you. You _run. _You bolt out the door and hide away in Bludhaven and maybe I'll see you in a week or two weeks and the next time you come crawling in here you'll try to pretend that it never happened and we'll just pick up the pieces and go on like we always do. Until the next time."

"So what, you want to break up with me?" Dick said to her. "I mean, if you can't handle me the way I am -"

"Dick, holy shit!" Babs said to him in total frustration. "I am not going anywhere. You know this. Even if you don't admit it, you know it. Do I _ever _break up with you? Do I _ever_ tell you to leave? You are the one who leaves. And I am always, _always_ here when you come back. Because I _love_ you, you asshole!"

She stomped up to his face. "I will always be here for you. But you are not doing yourself or us any favors by running away every time we have a fight. And you and Bruce _and Jason_ will never be right until you talk to Bruce about what you're really angry about. And, no -" she added, seeing him start to protest - "you don't have to. I'm not leaving you but I'm not marrying you, either, as long as you're like this." Dick blinked.

"I thought that was because of your dad dying," he said to her. "And becoming commissioner. And Bruce's back, before that."

"It's because of you," Babs said quietly, looking down. "First fight we'd have as a married couple, you'd run and file for divorce. And then regret it and come back. And then do it again. Over and over and over, Dick. I can't live like that." She met his eyes.

"You already have me for better or for worse, Dick," she said seriously. "It's not about that. But I'm not going to marry you when it's a whole lot of worse and when you could be so much better." Dick's chest was heaving up and down, with anger or sadness or guilt or fear, he didn't really know what, but tears were starting to prick his eyes.

He wiped them angrily and turned away from Barbara. She sighed heavily.

"Go, if you need to, baby," she finally said gently. "I know you'll come back. And I'll be here, same as always, when you do." Dick didn't move from his spot facing the wall. Barbara stared at his back for a minute.

"Or, stay," she added in an even softer tone, setting her mug down and coming up behind him, running her fingers up his back. "You can always stay, baby," she said to him, starting to press some kisses into his back. "You never have to leave." Dick sniffed.

"I don't know how to stay when we're fighting," he muttered to her without turning around.

"It's easy," Babs said to him, sliding her arms around his waist. "You just don't go." Dick turned around to meet her embrace and wrapped his arms around her tight, clinging to her as she hugged him and rubbed his back.

"I'm so angry at him," he said into her shoulder in a shaky voice.

"I know," Barbara soothed him.

"I can't tell him," Dick protested softly. "He's already been through so much. He's already breaking down over Jason. I can't add this to his burden, too."

"You can," Barbara said to him softly, "and you should. It needs to come out, Dick. You're allowed to be angry at him, too. He's not perfect."

"I know," Dick said, gulping some tears. "But he's done so much for me. I wouldn't even have _been_ Robin without him, and maybe I shouldn't be so upset about it."

"Feelings don't give a 'should' about logic," Barbara teased him. Dick groaned.

"That is a _terrible_ pun," he said to her. "Don't _ever_ repeat that. To anyone," he pleaded with her. She laughed.

"It's true, though," she said to him. "You have the right to be upset about exactly what you're upset about. And Jason does, too, baby," she added, laying her hand on Dick's cheek and meeting his eyes. Dick hung his head.

"He still bothers me so much, though, Babs. I had a shitty childhood, too, and I didn't act out like he did." Barbara pursed her lips.

"You had a traumatic childhood," she countered. "But you went from your family who loved you straight to Bruce and Alfred who loved you. Jason, though," she went on, "Jason was living on the streets, Dick. His parents were abusive when he was with them, his mom was an addict, and he got abused in that group home that Bruce first put him in. I know you don't want to hear it, but that's really different from your experience. You were loved and provided for and Jason wasn't and he had to fend for himself." Dick groaned.

"All I'm saying is, maybe cut him some slack, ok?" Barbara said to him. Dick sighed.

"I'll try," he muttered.

"I think he won't bother you so much after you talk to Bruce," she said back to him, causing Dick to groan some more.

"How do I even do that?" he asked her. Barbara cupped his face with her hands.

"You go over there. You say, 'Bruce, we need to talk.' And then you say it. Write it down ahead of time if you have to and read it off to him if you want."

"Ok," Dick sighed, letting the tension finally slump out of his shoulders. Babs leaned in and hugged him tight.

"We're putting that suitcase back in the closet, right?" she asked him.

"Yeah," Dick said shyly.

"Good," Babs said. "Because I'm gonna call in sick to work and spend the whole day with you." A grateful little smile lit up Dick's face.

"I'm sorry I was such a dick," he muttered to her. Barbara's eyebrows went up.

"Oh, _my_ pun was bad?" she asked him playfully.

"At least mine was the actual word," he said to her with a tiny smile.

"See, _this_ is how we fight and make up," Barbara said to him, giving him a kiss. "And I forgive you for being a dick. Because you're such a Dick that you can't help it."

"Oh, my God," Dick groaned. "No more."

"You started it," Babs pointed out.

"You made the first pun," Dick argued.

"Do you want to be introduced to the joys of make-up sex or not?" Babs asked him seriously, putting a hand on her hip. Dick's eyebrows went up.

"I am shutting up right now and walking to the bedroom," he said to her, zipping his lip and moving with purpose.

"You know how many dick jokes I want to make right now?" Barbara asked him, following behind him.

"Please tell me make-up sex is silent," Dick said to her. Barbara pouted.

"You like when I scream," she said.

"And you like my dick," said Dick.

He was not wrong.


	8. Chapter 8

_A/N TRIGGER WARNING: Mention of childhood rape (not graphically described). Standard Disclaimer: Killing people is wrong. Do not kill people. This is a work of fiction for entertainment purposes only. _

_**Chapter 8**_

"Hello," Bane said as his cellphone rang in the BatCave. He was sitting at the computer, going over the intricacies of its operations with Tim. Bruce was in the gym training Damian and Stephanie, who could only work mostly on her upper body and core due to her broken ankle. Alfred was, thankfully, attending to his butlering duties again, somewhere in the depths of the mansion.

"Hey, Bane, this is Jason Todd. Harley's husband."

"Ah, Jason, a pleasure to hear from you," Bane answered. Tim's ears perked up. "How can I be of service?"

"Um, I don't know if Harley ever told you this," Jason said, "but she was raped by her stepdad as a teenager. And it turns out the fucker's still alive."

"Oh," Bane murmured sympathetically. "She had not told me, no, or I would have killed the bastard. But I did suspect something like that had happened to her," he said in an empathetic voice.

"Yeah," Jason said. "I knew about the rape but I didn't realize she hadn't killed him herself until this week. She didn't want to look at him again," he muttered brokenly, his heart crying for his girl and what she'd been through.

"So you wish to complete the task," Bane said matter-of-factly.

"Yeah," Jason agreed. "And Harley said she'd feel better if you came with me. Said she'd worry too much about me otherwise, even though he's just a small fry."

"Of course I will come," Bane said immediately. "And together, we shall avenge our Harley."

"Thanks, man," Jason said with true appreciation in his voice. "You're a good friend to her."

"She has been a good friend to me, as well," Bane said fondly. "What is the plan?"

"Well, bastard's living on the West Coast now," Jason sighed, "and we're not gonna fly out there, obviously, so I'm thinking we rent a van and take a road trip. Throw a couple mattresses in the back and sleep off road every night."

"Yes," Bane agreed. "An excellent strategy. And you have considered, I think, that Bane's bulk will be more comfortable riding in a van, eh?" he asked with a twinkle in his eye which translated into his voice.

"Yeah," Jason said, and Bane heard the smile. "Can't have my wingman feeling cramped."

"I heartily appreciate your consideration," Bane told him. "When do we depart on our glorious quest?"

"Is tomorrow ok?" Jason asked him. "I figured you're still in town, right? Since you haven't taken us up yet on our dinner invitation," Jason teased.

"Ah, yes," Bane answered. "I am indeed still here. And intending to come to dinner soon, my friend, I have not forgotten your generous offer of hospitality. I have been engaged in other more pressing matters this week, however, having decided to become the Batman to relieve some of your father's stress." Jason spluttered on the other end of the line.

"Wait, you _what?_" he asked him. "And he's _letting_ you?"

"Yes, yes," Bane said easily. "We have reconciled from our sordid past and I owe your father amends."

"Oh," Jason said more somberly. "Yeah, I get that, Harley's big on amends, too."

"She is the one who guided me down that path," Bane said warmly.

"Aw, that's my girl," Jason said affectionately with so much love in his voice that Bane smiled.

"I am truly glad that she found you, my friend," he said to Jason.

"Me, too," Jason said whole-heartedly. "Best thing that ever happened to me," he added.

"Actually," Bane said, frowning a bit, "I wonder… I do not like to leave Bruce alone at the moment, Jason. He is not well. I wonder… perhaps Harley would consent to stay here at the Manor until we return from our mission?"

"Oh," Jason said, surprised. "Uh, I'll ask her. She…" he thought for a minute. "It could go either way with her," he finally laughed. "She'll probably do it for you. But she'll either be so grumpy that she gives Pops nothing but hell or else she'll be so delighted to have the chance to annoy him that… she also gives him hell." Bane laughed, too.

"Our Harley," he said warmly. "Either way, she will be good for Bruce," he said seriously. "Sometimes we need to be shaken out of our comfortable state of depression," he said.

"And Harley certainly knows how to shake things up," Jason chuckled. "I'll check in with her and text you back, ok, man? But let's assume it's a go for leaving tomorrow."

"May we leave at two o'clock?" Bane asked him. "Apparently night work requires adjusting one's sleep schedule," he sighed. "As I have learned the hard way."

"Oh man," Jason said in horror. "I hope you didn't try to wake Pops up before one."

"Let us not discuss the matter," Bane said grimly.

Tim looked over at Bane when he ended the phone call. "So…" he said slowly. "Harley's gonna stay here while you and Jason go kill somebody?" Bane looked down at him.

"Does that concern you?" he asked kindly, making Tim blink in surprise. Bruce would've glared at him for asking a question like that. Not that Bruce would have killed somebody. But God forbid that Tim ask Batman about his plans that he hasn't chosen to share with him, yet, before Bats chooses to share them.

"Um, maybe it concerns me," Tim said honestly, looking down.

"Which part?" Bane asked curiously. "Harley staying here or us killing someone? Or all of it?"

"I don't know," Tim said. "All of it, I guess."

"Ah," Bane said. And that's all he said. The silence began to stretch on. Finally, Tim broke it.

"Harley doesn't think me and Steph should be wearing the suits at all," he said in frustration. "And she's completely wrong about that! Even you think she's wrong about that," Tim added.

"Can you not spend time with someone who disagrees with you?" Bane asked him thoughtfully.

"What?" Tim said. "Well, I don't know, I mean - she's so against it."

"Yes," Bane said patiently. "And? That means you cannot spend a week with her in the mansion? She is your sister-in-law, you know."

"Well, I guess, yeah, but -" Tim said, not sure how this conversation had turned into a discussion of his own intolerance of Harley. I mean, she was Harley _Quinn_, for crying out loud! And she was so angry at the very idea of teenaged vigilantes! She'd probably be lecturing him and Steph about it all week.

"So what if she does?" Bane asked him. Tim realized he'd said the last part out loud.

"Well - I don't know," Tim said, looking helplessly at Bane in confusion.

"I mean that seriously," Bane said to Tim. "So what if she does lecture you and the Batgirl all week? You cannot go out on patrol without me anyway, so she will not be stopping you from doing anything that you are not already prohibited from doing."

"Yeah, but -" Tim said.

"Can she stop you from patrolling in the future? When your father and I permit it?" Bane asked him.

"Well - no," Tim grumbled.

"So what is the worst that can happen if she stays here for a week and lectures you the entire time?" Bane asked Tim. The silence stretched on again as Tim realized that it wasn't a rhetorical question. Bane was waiting for an answer.

"I mean… I'd get really annoyed," Tim muttered.

"And that is the worst thing that would happen?" Bane asked him again, just to check.

"Maybe we'd have an argument," Tim added sullenly.

"All right," Bane said placidly. "And that is the worst?" Tim groaned.

"Yessss," he said reluctantly. "I guess," he muttered distastefully.

"And can my Batboy not survive some annoyance or an argument?" Bane asked him a bit more playfully.

"Why do you call me _Batboy?_" Tim exploded at him. "My name is _Robin._ A batboy is someone in baseball who runs around picking up bats off the field." Bane looked at Tim thoughtfully.

"Is a Batboy not also a junior Bat_man_?" Bane asked him, meeting Tim's frustrated eyes with a glimmering sharpness in his own that Tim hadn't noticed before.

"Oh," Tim said, completely surprised.

"And have there not already been two Robins before you who flew out of the nest to other pursuits?" Bane persisted, causing Tim's eyes to widen even more.

"_Oh,_" he said with more understanding, some shock starting to lace his voice as he began to grasp the full implication of what Bane was saying to him. "Oh," he said again, awe and appreciation starting to creep into the word. "Are you saying…?"

"I do not think that your father will ever pick up the mantle of the Bat again," Bane said to Tim seriously. "Behind the scenes, yes. But on the streets of Gotham? No. And he is no longer a young man in his prime. One day, he will be too old to be out on the streets even if he wished to do so." Tim's mouth had dropped open a little bit and he was staring at Bane with hope and fearful excitement and a little bit of respect, now, too.

'Who do you think will succeed him?" Bane asked Tim, meeting his eyes head on, man to man. "The Nightwing is happy in Bludhaven. The Red Hood has essentially retired to a life of domesticity when he is not backing up his wife on the streets. You are the next Batman, my little friend," Bane told him. Tim's breath was coming harder and he even felt a few tears pricking his eyes.

"So, that is why I call you the Batboy," Bane finished, giving him a look. "Call yourself the Robin if you wish, out on the streets. No harm in keeping the continuity," Bane said. "Perhaps useful, even. But you, Tim Drake, are the next Batman," Bane said with finality. "And I will refer to you as such," he added.

"Oh," Tim said again, stunned and ashamed and a little bit proud, too. "Um, thank you, Bane," he said quietly. "I'm sorry, I didn't understand…"

"And that is why we discuss things," Bane said to him with a little smile, poking Tim in his arm with a finger. "That is what you can learn from _this _Batman," he said, patting his own chest.

"Communication skills?" Tim said with a little smile.

"Yes," Bane said, eyes twinkling. "They come in very handy in a multitude of situations, little friend. Something our dear Bruce has yet to learn." Tim laughed a little bit.

"Spirituality, too," Bane said to Tim. "It is not necessary to have a tortured soul in order to be the Batman," he said quietly, with pity in his voice for Bruce. Tim sobered, thinking back to how far gone Bruce was after Jason had died and he had recovered from his broken back. The extreme violence that he had fallen prey to and the dark misery that flowed out of him and followed him closer than his cape.

"That's why I asked Bruce to make me Robin," Tim said softly. "He was suffering. He needed someone."

Bane clapped a hand on Tim's shoulder. "And some of that suffering was my fault," he said. "I owe you amends as well, my little Batboy, for shouldering that heavy burden." Tim's eyes lit up quietly as he considered Bane's words.

"I will train you well," Bane promised him. "In a life of inner peacefulness and outer badassery." Tim laughed out loud at that.

"I don't think badassery is a word," he said, but he was grinning.

"Eh," Bane said, completed untroubled, "the Batboy and the new Batman shall make it one and teach it to Gotham," he smirked with a glint in his eye. "Yes?" he asked Tim.

"Yes," Tim said, finally, for the first time, feeling like he was the real sidekick. It was a good feeling.


	9. Chapter 9

_**Chapter 9**_

"I can't believe I let you talk me into this," Bruce said miserably to Bane as they waited in the foyer sitting room for Jason and Harley to arrive.

"Eh, Bruce, it will be fine," Bane said calmly. "It will be good for you to get to know your daughter-in-law." Bruce groaned but Bane just chuckled.

"Moaning over it will not change her relationship to you," he teased. "Besides," Bane said more seriously, "bonding with Harley will help you reconcile more easily with your son."

"If he _wants_ to reconcile," Bruce said glumly, staring down at his hands which he couldn't stop knotting nervously back and forth in his lap. Since when was Batman twitchy? he thought with a sigh.

This new version of himself felt like a pathetic, battered shell of the man he used to be and despite a week of Bane's forced daily meditation practice, Bruce still didn't see how sitting on a cushion thinking of nothing was going to help him get better. At anything. The only reason he did it was out of gratitude to Bane for temporarily lifting the burden of Batman off of his shoulders. If it made Bane happy to have the whole family sit around on pillows with their legs crossed and their eyes closed for an hour, then dammit, they would do it, even if Bruce didn't see how that was any different from him staying in bed all day like he'd been doing before Bane moved in.

Bruce's morose thoughts were interrupted by the doorbell. Nervous butterflies jumped up in his stomach at the thought of facing Jason without the benefit of other distractions like gunned-down gang members or Bane scaring the shit out of morning commuters. If Jason even decided to come in with Harley, that was. Bruce sighed heavily as he got up from his chair because he didn't know what would feel worse at this point; talking to Jason or being avoided by him.

Bane was also rising and the two of them walked to the door together. "Courage, my friend," Bane said to him quietly, surprising Bruce as he gently clapped a hand on his shoulder. "The fear is always worse than the reality." Bruce was oddly touched by Bane's reassuring grip and gentle words and his presence with him in the foyer felt damn comforting, he realized. When had he last had a friend, Bruce wondered to himself suddenly. A real friend.

Alfred and he, it turned out, were two codependent yes-men to each other, and that bitter realization had made Bruce feel lonelier than he'd felt in years. He'd always thought that he could count on Alfred, if no one else. Finding out that all he could count on his elderly guardian for was to never say 'no' to him had been more of a betrayal than Bruce had been willing to admit to himself at the time. Not that he was much better to Alfred, bending over backwards to protect the butler's feelings at every turn.

Bruce sighed again. He thought briefly about straightening his shoulders and trying to appear as formidable as he always had - but what was the point? They all knew he was broken. Hell, if _one more person_ told him how "not well" he was… Bruce gritted his teeth, took a deep breath, and opened the door.

Harley was standing there, looking about as excited to see him as he was to see her. Jason was standing behind her with her suitcase in his hand, jaw tightened in what Bruce thought might be nervousness rather than anger, recognizing his own defense mechanisms in his son.

"Harley, Jason," Bruce said stepping to the side, "please, come in." Like they were some damn formal socialites that he'd met at a function instead of his family.

"Thanks," Harley muttered. Jason didn't say anything. "Hey, Bane," Harley said warmly, her face breaking into a genuine smile at seeing her friend.

"Harley!" Bane exclaimed with glee, causing Bruce to side-eye him as his more fabulous part slid forward. "Come here, girl, give me a hug," Bane was saying, picking Harley's tiny frame up so she could hug his massive bulk a little better.

"Thank you so much for going on this trip with Jason," Harley was saying to Bane as Bruce shut the door behind his son, who had set Harley's suitcase down but otherwise hadn't moved or acknowledged Bruce.

"It's good to see you, son," Bruce said quietly to him as Bane and Harley dissolved into chattering gossip in their extended bubbly greeting to each other. Jason turned his head to look at Bruce.

"Yeah," he said noncommittally, grinding his teeth on one side a little bit.

"Would you… would you like a hug?" Bruce ground out with difficulty. Jason's eyebrows popped up into his forehead.

"You hug?" he asked Bruce dryly.

"I'm working on it," Bruce said with the tiniest glimmer of a grin on one side of his mouth.

"Mm," Jason said to him. "I'll take a raincheck," he said, moving his eyes back to his wife and her BFF Bane.

_A raincheck's not 'get the hell out of my life, I never want to see you again,' _Bruce thought to himself, feeling actually somewhat encouraged by Jason's response, and perhaps a little relieved, too, because while he felt that offering the hug was the right thing to do, he knew it would have been awkward as fuck. Hell, he could still barely hug Bane properly who coached him through it every day.

"Would you two like to come in for awhile?" Bruce asked Jason and Harley, who had finally peeled herself off of Bane and was back at her husband's side looking hesitantly between Jason and Bruce. She glanced at Jason for an answer but he looked questioningly back down to her, and Bruce felt the oddest sense of jealousy hit him at their silently graceful communication.

Bruce hadn't felt a hole in his life from his lack of a romantic partner for years. He fucked, he played at being Bruce Wayne, he had his kids, he had Alfred, and he was motherfuckin' Batman. It was enough, he'd always thought. A good life. A full life. He didn't need or want more.

But now, looking at Jason and Harley's loving intimacy that didn't need words… Bruce felt surprisingly empty inside. He blinked a little bit as he looked away. Bane was smiling sweetly at the couple and Bruce wondered if he'd ever find that same sense of inner peace that Bane somehow always exuded.

_He must have done more than sit on fucking pillows_, Bruce thought to himself in confusion, his detective's mind sluggishly waking up a little bit to ponder the absurdity of Bane's proposed path of healing. _Maybe I'll ask him when he gets back, _he sighed to himself.

Jason and Harley had finished their mindmeld and arrived at a decision. "Maybe we'll come in just for a minute," Jason said to Bruce, "if Alfred's here. So I can say 'hi.'"

"Sure," Bruce said in surprise, realizing that Jason and Alfred had yet to speak at all. Bruce wondered with a jolt if Jason blamed Alfred for Robin as much as Alfred blamed himself. _I guess we'll see… _he thought, thinking back to Bane's words about fear versus reality.

"You can meet Damian, too," Bruce offered. "Your brother," he added.

"Sure," Jason said off-handedly, clearly not really caring.

"They are both in the kitchen having a cooking lesson," Bane said, turning to lead the way.

"Where did you adopt Damian from?" Harley said dryly. Bruce could almost see her mentally putting another notch in his cowl for his collection of 'kids with daddy issues.'

"Damian's my biological son," Bruce said to her as they walked.

"Really?" Jason said, startled. "I hadn't realized…" he trailed off, then frowned. "With who?" he asked. "Anyone I know? Or knew?"

"Talia," Bruce sighed. Jason's feet scuffed the floor as he froze abruptly in his tracks.

"Damian is _Talia's _son?" Jason said in a low voice, actually gripping Bruce's arm as he spoke.

"Yeah," Bruce said back to him, a little puzzled at Jason's strong reaction. "I guess you remember her," he added, since he and Talia had been dating during Jason's short-lived teenaged years. Jason swallowed and looked away to Harley, whose eyes were big.

"Talia," Jason said slowly, and then he stopped. He rubbed a hand on his neck uncomfortably and Harley wrapped her arms around his waist, clearly understanding what was troubling him. Jason finally forced himself to meet Bruce's eyes.

"When I came back to life," he said thickly, "I was pretty much a zombie," he said. "I didn't remember anything, I could barely function…" Bruce's eyes were starting to fill with tears but he didn't interrupt. "I had to break out of my buried coffin," Jason added, looking up at the ceiling, trying not to cry.

"I saw the scratches," Bruce murmured brokenly, causing Bane to lay a hand on his back in support. Jason sniffed.

"Anyway, um, Talia saved me," Jason said, looking back to meet Bruce's eyes. "She found me wandering around the cemetery and took me back to her father and the League of Assassins. She trained me and took care of me for five years when I could barely speak or function." Bruce's jaw was slowly dropping.

"But… Damian…" he said slowly. "She trained him to be an assassin, Jason," he said. "She abused him so brutally from the time he was _born_. How -"

"Talia had not a scrap of love in her heart when I met her," Bane added. "She was a stone-cold killing machine, relentlessly training the League of Assassins and the Little Killer. Damian," he explained, when Jason looked confused at the reference. Bane frowned at Jason. "And you were not among them."

"When did she change?" Bruce muttered. "_How _did she change?" he added. "If she saved you -" he broke off. "She had to already be pregnant with Damian," he realized slowly. "She never explained why she left," he added. "She left me a message saying she'd be back in a month and she never came back." Bruce broke off, looking so damn lost and _sad_ that Harley's eyes filled up with sympathy and even Jason looked stricken.

"I know how she changed," Jason said softly. "But it will hurt you to hear it. I didn't know you hadn't broken up before she left or that Damian was yours. I never pieced things together about what was happening back then. I don't have to tell you if you'd rather not know," he added. "It's not good," he said, looking down.

"Tell me," Bruce said quietly but firmly. "Maybe knowing the truth will let me lay to her rest, finally," he said, rubbing his face. Jason sighed and wrapped his arm tighter around Harley's shoulders.

"You have to remember, Pops, I wasn't feeling anything during that time, even though I have memories of it. I was just an emotionless robot, basically, but I saw what happened to her. Ra's, um, Ra's wouldn't let her leave me with him at first," Jason started to explain.

"He said I was going to be a burden and a liability. So she stayed to take care of me until I was functional enough to work for the League and that's when her pregnancy started showing and once Ra's saw that, he definitely wouldn't let her leave."

"After Damian was born," Jason went on, his voice getting thicker, "Ra's took her down to a Lazarus Pit. With me. He made me hold Damian so she could see us. He told her that emotions were a liability and that he was going to make her stronger so she could be a good mother to his grandson. He killed her, Pops," Jason said brokenly. "But not just once. He killed her and resurrected her, again and again and again…"

A muffled sob burst out under the hand that Bruce had clamped over his mouth. Bane looked sick. Harley, who clearly already knew this part of the story, was hugging Jason tight as he rubbed her back. "Ra's didn't stop until she was gone, Pops," he finally finished. "She was colder than I was when he was done with her." Jason looked away.

"It didn't bother me at the time," he muttered, wiping his eyes. "It couldn't. But later… especially when I remembered her with us, how she used to be -" Bruce's heart jumped at hearing Jason refer back to the time when they were a family, before everything went to hell. Jason stopped speaking, sniffing miserably instead.

"You're getting that hug now whether you want it or not," Bruce grumbled out, stepping forward to wrap his arms around his grieving son, realizing that Jason had in effect lost another mother when Ra's had destroyed Talia. Bruce and Jason had both loved her, years ago, and Bruce knew without a doubt that he and Talia would have gotten married once she told him that she was pregnant, if Ra's hadn't interfered.

Jason slipped his arms under Bruce's without resistance and didn't even try to stop himself from crying softly into Bruce's shoulder. Bruce was crying too. He thought he'd locked his grief over Talia away a long, long time ago and he had eventually managed to resign himself to never understanding the mystery of her altered personality when she showed up on his doorstep with dead eyes and Damian, but now he felt like a sharp knife was cutting fresh wounds into his heart. She hadn't left him, after all - she'd been _taken_ from him, and they could have been married and been happy and …

Bane wrapped his arms around Harley as Bruce and Jason cried together for the woman they'd both lost. Bane's eyes were glimmering with tears, and Harley's were downright leaking, but the two of them were looking at father and son with small smiles on their faces despite that. Bane kissed the top of Harley's head.

"Who would have thought that we were all so connected, eh?" he murmured to her. She nodded.

"How did you get back to Gotham?" Bruce asked Jason when he released him. "I'm assuming you went through a Lazarus Pit yourself at some point."

"Yeah," Jason said. "Just once, thankfully." He sighed. "Talia had some plan she wanted to use me for, I don't know what, but I was too dumb to do it. She didn't think the Lazarus Pit would bring my memories back or heal my emotions, since it took all of that from her. She thought it would just make me smarter, I guess, so I could be a better puppet." Jason gave a wry smile to Bruce.

"Five years of training with the League plus the Lazarus Pit was a potent combo. I got the _hell_ out of there and never looked back. I guess you know the rest," he muttered, not wanting to bring up again why he hadn't come home to Bruce.

"Well," Bruce said with a sigh, "From now on, I will always be grateful to her for saving you. And for intending to share Damian with me from the beginning," he added. "That's the Talia I want to remember," he said, wiping his tears.

"She loved us," Jason said softly. "I think she only brought me to Ra's because she thought seeing me so zombie-fied would hurt you and she wanted me to be able to have some sort of life, not be put in an institution. She never wanted to leave you, Pops. She used to talk to her pregnant belly telling the baby stories about its dad," he added, which caused Bruce to sniff a little more with emotion.

"Why don't we go meet the Little Bat?" Bane said gently. "I would not be surprised if he remembers you," he said to Jason.

"Yeah," Jason said, rubbing his nose on his sleeve. "I remember him, anyway. Shit, Talia always used to make me baby-sit him when she had a mission neither one of us could go on," he said, chuckling. "Who named him Damian?" he asked Bruce as they walked. "You, Pops? Talia never named him that I remember."

"That was me," Bruce said, but he looked a little guilty.

"What?" Jason said, poking his arm. "What's that look?" Bruce looked up at the ceiling for a minute as they walked.

"You can't tell him this," he said finally, meeting all of their eyes. "I mean it," he added. "I never should have done it."

"Well, we all know you're a shitty father," Harley said cheerfully. "Lay it on us, Bruce." Bruce shot her a look, but he might have been slightly amused by her, too.

"Damian tried to kill Tim when he first got here. He thought I would appreciate the gesture," Bruce said. Jason burst out laughing.

"God, I love this kid already!" he said. "Killing the Replacement. Hell, I _totally_ appreciate that gesture," he laughed. Bruce cuffed the back of his head.

"Behave," he growled at him, and the tone was so father-ish and Batman-like that Jason actually grinned at him. "Anyway," Bruce went on reluctantly. "Dick called him a demon-child. And then Tim started. And Steph. Not to his face," Bruce said hurriedly, as Harley's eyebrow went to the ceiling.

"Oh, that's _so_ much better," she said sarcastically. "A+ in parenting skills, Bruce, really."

"Well," Bruce said, "in my defense, I did realize, anyway, that we couldn't keep calling him the demon-child… and he needed a name… so…." Jason busted out laughing. Hard.

"Oh, my God," he said, wiping his eyes. "You named the kid Damian 'cause he's a demon?" Bruce shrugged and even though he still looked a little guilty, a small smile was twitching on his lips.

"It fit," he said nonchalantly. Harley was rolling her eyes and muttering about terrible parenting and family therapy but Bane was chuckling softly. "But this is why you can't tell him," Bruce added. "I don't want to hurt his feelings. What Talia did to him wasn't his fault."

"A fact you might have acknowledged before naming him Demon," Harley pointed out.

"Yes, Harley, we've established that I was a terrible parent," Bruce snarked back at her. "And his name is _Damian_. Why do you have to stay here for the week, again?" he asked her in exasperation.

"Ask Bane," Harley grumbled, sounding equally irritated.

"It will be good for you to bond," Bane said congenially, beaming at both of them like they weren't about to go nuclear as soon as he left the house. Jason snorted.

"Make sure to record your arguments, babe, so I can watch them after," he said to Harley, kissing her cheek. She giggled at him and whispered something in his ear that he turned and responded to in an even quieter murmur. Whatever it was lit her eyes on fire as she gazed up at him adoringly.

Bruce felt the pang in his heart again, made even more poignant by revisiting memories of happier times with Talia and realizing what might have been. Bane eyed him sympathetically and dropped behind Harley and Jason to walk beside Bruce, instead. Jason kept leading the way to the kitchen, obviously not at all lost in the manor, even while being adorably distracted by his wife who he kept shamelessly flirting with under his breath.

Bane squeezed Bruce's bicep, but he didn't say anything. He didn't need to. And for once in his life, Bruce appreciated the value of having a friend.


	10. Chapter 10

_**Chapter 10**_

Damian with his razor-sharp alertness looked up first when Jason and Harley led the way into the kitchen, followed by Bruce and Bane. Alfred was in the middle of explaining to him how to properly beat a sponge cake batter so that it was neither too tough nor too wet.

"Oh! Master Jason!" Alfred said in a quavering voice as he realized that they were no longer alone in their lesson.

"Hey, Al," Jason said softly, working his jaw muscles again. Alfred's eyes were already overflowing with tears and he dabbed at them with a corner of his apron.

"Master Jason, I shall never forgive myself for not intervening when you were a child," Alfred sniffed out bravely, coming around from behind the island countertop to stand in front of Jason, but not daring to reach out and touch him.

Jason sighed quietly, gritting his teeth harder as Alfred continued. "I was a coward," Alfred said, "and I accept full responsibility for the harm that I have caused to you and to our relationship."

Jason bent his head down as he pinched his hand over his eyes which were watering up. Harley took his hand in one of hers and began rubbing his back. "Well," Jason said tightly, wiping his eyes impatiently and sniffing away his tears, "I appreciate you accepting responsibility, Al."

The stare that he gave Alfred as he raised his head was hard, but not completely cold. Bruce sensed that underlying Jason's gaze was hurt rather than hatred and he sighed.

"Quite so, Master Jason," Alfred murmured, resigned to his rebuke. "Quite so." He made his way back to the mixing bowl on the counter but simply stood and stared at it.

Jason slid his eyes over to Damian, who was perched on a stool next to Alfred and who had seemingly frozen into predator mode like a tensed panther. His piercing eyes were trained on Jason and Jason had the unnerving feeling that Damian hadn't blinked once since seeing him walk into the room.

"Damian, this is your brother Jason," Bruce said. "Please don't try to kill him." Damian's eyes flicked for one second to Bruce, then snapped right back to Jason.

"Why do you look like Rob?" Damian demanded coldly. Jason inhaled sharply.

"Who's Rob?" Bruce asked Damian.

"Me," Jason said to Bruce, but he didn't take his eyes off Damian. Damian was frowning. "Talia called me Rob instead of Robin or Jason. Protecting secret identities, you know," Jason explained, but he was looking at Damian with troubled eyes.

"You are not Rob," Damian pronounced. "Rob was mentally deficient. But you look like him. Why? I could not find any records of male relatives of Jason Todd of approximately your age in the BatComputer. But you look very similar to him. Except not as stupid."

"Thanks," Jason said, but he lacked his usual sarcasm. Instead, he looked conflicted and … guilty?

"I didn't realize until a few minutes ago that you knew Jason," Bruce said to Damian. "I only just learned what happened to him seven years ago. Why didn't you tell me that you recognized him on the surveillance footage?" Jason growled low in his throat at the mention of his time in Arkham, causing Bruce to jump guiltily and look ashamed again.

"I did not recognize him," Damian said precisely. "I merely noted a resemblance to Rob who lived with my mother and grandfather and me. As I did not expect you to know who Rob was, I made no mention of it to you, Father. But how can you be Rob?" Damian asked Jason, frowning and looking _angry_. Jason sighed.

"Do you know what the Lazarus Pits are, kiddo?"

"Oh," Damian said. "Yes. I know Grandfather used to bathe in them but I could never find them when I looked. He and my mother would never take me to them."

"Well, thank God for that," Jason muttered. "Um, Talia threw me in one and it fixed me. Gave me my memories back, made me not a zombie anymore. So I'm better now." Inexplicably, Damian's eyes watered up the tiniest bit, although he was clearly trying not to show any emotions.

"Then why did you _leave?_" Damian asked him, his voice not quite shaking. Jason's eyes were slowly filling with tears as he gently approached Damian, who hadn't left his stool.

"I fucked up, kiddo," Jason said quietly, laying a hand on Damian's shoulder and meeting his eyes. "When my memories came back after the pit, and Talia was sitting there waiting to take me back to the League of Assassins, I panicked. I fought her and ran. I didn't think - I shouldn't have left you there," Jason whispered.

"I was only thinking of myself. I should have come back for you," he said softly, bending down to pull Damian into a hug which Damian slowly, slowly returned, gradually wrapping his arms around Jason's chest.

To Bruce's horror, Damian started _crying. _Damian, his son who barely showed emotions on a good day. Damian, his son whose very first time initiating affection was when he saw Bane in the BatCave a week ago. Damian, his stoic little warrior-assassin, as tightly wound as they come.

Bruce felt the bottom of his stomach drop out and he looked helplessly at Bane, who was looking extremely thoughtful at this new turn of events. When Bane caught Bruce's eyes on him, though, his eyes turned sympathetic and he reached out and rubbed Bruce's back before squeezing his shoulder.

Alfred's eyes had gone watery too, and he seemed equally as stunned as Bruce at this strange turn of events. He slowly moved towards Bruce, looking for comfort as much as wanting to offer it. Bruce reached out and gripped his hand tightly as they looked at each other in distress.

Harley's hands had come up to cover her mouth and she looked shaken. Tears were falling down her cheeks, too, but she didn't seem to notice them. She moved forward on auto-pilot and wrapped herself around Jason's back, pressing herself to him in a hug as he kept holding Damian.

"I'm so sorry, kiddo," Jason was saying as he rubbed Damian's back. "I'm so, so sorry." Jason was crying now, too, pressing his face into Damian's hair as he hugged him tight. Damian was actually sobbing now, and the sound was piercing Bruce's heart like a jagged dagger.

Bruce suddenly thought back to the day that Talia had shown up out of the blue at his front door.

"_Talia!" Bruce's voice was shocked and against his will, he started crying. "Where have you been, honey? I thought you left me, or died. I looked for you -" _

"_This is our son," Talia interrupted him in a cold voice, shoving a tinier Damian towards him. Talia's lip curled downward in disgust as she regarded Bruce's overly emotional state. "He's your responsibility now." _

_With that, and without a word to Damian, Talia turned and started to stalk off down the driveway. "Talia, wait!" Bruce shouted, rushing after her and grabbing her arm. Talia threw him off of her with ease and had a knife at his throat before he realized what was happening. _

"_Baby, what happened to you?" Bruce said softly, staring into eyes that were once full of fire and passion and love that were now cold and lifeless. Talia regarded him as if he were a bug. _

"_I renounced the worthless things in my life to fulfill my destiny as an al Ghul. Look at you, so weak," she sneered. "So full of emotions. I am stronger, now. Superior." She released Bruce with distaste and turned to leave. _

_This time, Bruce let her, his jaw dropped in shock and pain and grief and heartbreak. Quiet sobs overtook him as he watched her go. When he managed to stop crying after she had disappeared past the gate, Bruce turned to look at the small boy that Talia had deposited on his front porch. _

_The tiny, as-yet-to-be-named Damian looked up at him curiously, clutching a beat-up teddy bear to his chest. The boy, Bruce noticed, was not crying. Or looking longingly after his mother. _

_He was standing still - very still, Bruce observed - in a tense, watchful state, as if observing the scene and assessing dangers without giving himself away. Bruce recognized that look. Batman used it often. _

"_So…" Bruce said slowly, bending down to be on a level with Damian's eyes. "You're my son." _

"_So my mother says," Damian said coolly. "Where is my father?" Bruce twitched and frowned. _

"_I'm your father," he said gently, wondering what the hell kind of question that was. _

"_My mother said she was bringing me to my father. Where is he?" the unnatural boy persisted. _

"_Son…" Bruce said, wondering if this kid was right in the head, "if you're my son, then I'm your father. We'll do a DNA test to be sure," he added, as the boy's eyes widened slightly in confusion. _

"_Oh," the boy said. And that's all he said. No explanation. No further questions. _

"_What's your name?" Bruce asked him. _

"_I don't have a name," the boy answered matter-of-factly. Bruce frowned. _

"_You don't have a name?" he repeated in disbelief. _

"_That is what I said," his son answered with some irritation. "Is your hearing sub-par?" Bruce looked at him oddly. _

"_No," he answered. "Does your teddy bear have a name?" he asked out of curiosity and a need to find some common ground for conversation. _

"_Osito," Damian answered, finally breaking his disturbingly long eye-contact with Bruce to glance down at his bear, who, Bruce noticed, his son's arms hugged the tiniest bit tighter. _

"_Well, Osito and … son…" Bruce said, standing up, "come on inside and we'll get you settled." _

Blinking back to the present, as Bruce re-focused on Damian who was starting to quiet down in Jason's arms, a shocking realization hit him.

"Did you think that Jason was your father?" Bruce blurted out in a most un-Batman like way. Heads around the kitchen swiveled to look at him, and Jason's eyes were perhaps the widest of them all.

"Yes," Damian said as if that was the most obvious thing in the world. He pulled back from Jason and began wiping his eyes on his sleeve. Alfred hurried forward with a handkerchief and rather than handing it to his youngest charge, began tenderly wiping the boy's face with it before handing it to him to blow his nose on.

"Thank you," Damian said to Alfred politely, already reeling his emotions back in line. "I did not understand what a son was," he said to Bruce as calmly as if he was explaining a math problem. "My mother had never used that word before." He glanced at Jason. "You were the one who cared for me most often. And you never hurt me like the others did. That's why I thought you were my father. Before I understood the biological implications of that word."

Jason's chest was heaving hard, and he glanced to Harley to do their silent secret talk again, but just for a few seconds. "Damian, I'm so sorry," Jason said to him again, looking back at him. "I didn't know you thought of me that way. But I never should have left you there, regardless." He brushed Damian's hair back from his head.

"I forgive you," Damian said to him. Jason froze.

"Buddy, I really fucked up. You don't have to… I mean, I left you there to get more abused," Jason said, looking guiltily to Bruce and Alfred. "I guess I'm no better than you two," he said softly, but it was with self-recrimination, not accusal. "But there's no excuse for that," Jason said again to Damian, looking down at him while wrinkling his brow. "You don't have to forgive me."

"But I do," Damian said. "Bane says it's right to forgive other people when they do wrong things. My father forgave me for flying the BatWing." Jason's eyebrows shot up at the thought of little Damian being a pilot, but he didn't comment on it.

"I did," Bruce was saying to Damian, though.

"And we also must forgive ourselves," Bane said gently, meeting Jason's eyes, then looking to Alfred and finally Bruce. "The past is done. We cannot change it. But we can forgive ourselves for our own misdeeds and forgive others for theirs."

"And then take responsibility for our past actions and do the best we can to make amends for them," Harley added, offering comfort in her eyes to Jason as he glanced back at her. Jason blinked some final tears away as he sighed.

"You really forgive me?" he asked Damian.

"Yes," Damian said, clearly surprised that he needed to be asked again.

"Well…" Jason said slowly, "then I guess I can try to forgive you both, too," he said turning his head to Bruce and Alfred. The tension that they'd been walking around with since Bruce's initial confrontation with Jason at the docks left their bodies as if a string had been cut and their shoulders slumped in mutual relief.

Bruce took a deep breath. "I don't deserve it," he said to Jason.

"Nor do I," Alfred added. Jason shrugged.

"Me, neither," he said, looking down to Damian.

"Me, neither," Harley said quietly, but the whole room erupted.

"Aw, baby, that wasn't your fault -" "The Joker is a madman -" "You were an abuse victim, too -" "You cannot blame yourself for -"

Harley held up a hand to silence them all. "Just because it wasn't my fault doesn't mean that there weren't victims to my actions," she said firmly. "Victims who may never be able to forgive me for what my body did, no matter who was really in control of it at the time. I still need to forgive myself and take responsibility and make amends, just the same as all of you."

"And it's not like I still don't do shit of my own choosing," she added, glancing at Bruce with a little smile starting to curl up the side of her mouth. A little grin of agreement ghosted an echo on his face. "We all do," she added. Bane nodded in agreement.

"Indeed we do," he said. "And how can we live peacefully with ourselves if we do not extend mercy to ourselves and others?"

"And you learned all that from sitting on _pillows?_" Bruce asked him skeptically, causing Bane to chuckle.

"Not just from the pillows," he said. "But the meditation is the beginning, my friend."

"If you say so," Bruce said, but he was smiling a little bit as he said it, even though he still didn't believe him.

"I do say so," Bane said agreeably. "And now I say that we all must hug." The BatFamily started groaning in unison, but it was possible that some of the groans were more half-hearted than others. As the estranged members of Bruce's fucked-up family went around trading hugs with each other, Bane and Harley ended up next to each other.

"There is hope for them," he murmured to Harley with a smile, which she returned brightly.

"There's always hope," she said. "But more so when Bane is around," she finished, wrapping her arms around him in a tight squeeze.

"Eh, Bane would not be around at all if not for Harley," he returned to her. "Your generous heart is behind all of this," he said. Harley grinned.

"I _am _the Queen of Gotham," she said with a little laugh. "Dispensing joy and goodwill to all my subjects."

"And we are all the better for it," Bane said sincerely, looking over at Jason who was hugging a trembling Alfred, and Bruce, whose hugging skills had improved considerably in a week, who had Damian snuggled into his chest.

Bane wrapped his enormous arm over Harley's tiny shoulders. "It is nice to be family, eh?" he said to her.

"Yeah," Harley said back, smiling a little more gently as she watched Bruce and Jason slowly start to hug each other, a little tentatively at first but then leaning into each other tighter. Harley wiped a few tears away with the back of her hand.

"Maybe the BatFamily's not so bad, after all," she said to Bane.

"Especially when you and I are in it," Bane said with deep satisfaction filling his voice. Harley couldn't help but agree.


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11

"I think maybe we should stay the night and you and Bane leave tomorrow," Harley said to Jason as he made his way over to squeeze her waist tight as his final family hug. "It's been a way more emotional day than we thought it would be."

"Yeah, that's a good idea," Jason agreed with her, snuggling her into him as he rubbed her back. "I could always use an extra night with my girl," he added, making her smile into his shoulder.

"Is that all right with you, Bane?" Jason called over Harley's head as he cuddled her. "If we stay here tonight and leave tomorrow?"

"Of course," Bane answered him as he boosted Damian up to hug him into his shoulder. "A wise plan."

"Harley's," Jason said with a grin.

"Naturally," Bane answered with a smile, making Harley giggle. "And we can all eat the Little Bat's cake after dinner, which he needs to finish baking with Mr. Alfred, yes?" he asked Damian.

"Yes," said Damian, hugging Bane's neck. "If the batter isn't spoiled by now."

"The batter will be just fine, Master Damian," Alfred assured him. "It will still be delicious and we shall perfect the technique of the texture next time."

"Ok," Damian said easily, causing Bruce to give Bane a pleased smile from behind Damian's head. Because a week ago, Damian had pitched a fit and threatened to burn the kitchen down when he had burned a pancake on the griddle during his first cooking lesson. It wasn't easy for Damian to let go of Talia's indoctrination, where the slightest mistake was met with harsh physical abuse, but he was slowly getting better, Bruce saw.

Thanks to Bane, mostly. Bruce couldn't take credit. It was Bane who had gently held the shrieking Little Bat in his arms and quietly consoled him over his "failure," offering gentle advice and counsel in his ear until Damian had finally quieted himself down and relented from his planned arson.

Bane had made Damian burn the rest of the batch on purpose. Just to show him that it was not a life-threatening catastrophe. Each time, Alfred had gently responded (under Bane's coaching) with an "Oh, well, into the trash, Master Damian. No harm done." And even though Damian was clearly freaking out over the first several, by the end of the batch he had calmed down considerably, to the point where he started chanting along with Alfred, "Oh, well, into the trash. No harm done."

And then together, Bane and Alfred and Damian had made a second batch of batter. "You see, Little Bat?" Bane had said gently. "We can always make more." Damian did much better on the second batch, and even though he burned one or two, he was able to handle it. Bruce was frankly floored. He had been sitting quietly at the kitchen table watching the drama unfold without interfering, because the honest truth was that he had no fuckin' idea what to do to help.

Even if he'd been a good parent, which clearly he wasn't at times, Bruce would have had no idea how to deprogram a traumatized miniature assassin. But, Bane did. Because Bane had lived a similar life and done the work on himself. And Bruce had thought again how grateful he was to Bane for coming to his rescue. And not just his rescue, but his family's.

It was an odd thought, but Bruce almost didn't mind anymore that Bane had broken his back. Well, he did, it had hurt like hell and recovery had been a bitch. But… Bane was here because he felt guilty over it. And Damian would have been here regardless, and he would have continued to be completely neurotic without Bane's help. So, Bruce had thought to himself as he drank his cup of coffee, maybe the broken back was worth it. For his son's sake.

Because here was Damian only a week later calmly accepting a less than perfectly textured cake. It was a miracle, truly, Bruce thought as he and Bane smilingly acknowledged it to each other with their eyes.

"It will be good for you to stay the night," Bruce said, turning to Harley and Jason. "You can meet Stephanie and Tim when they get home from school."

"Oh!" Harley said with pleasure as an idea came to her. "We should have a game night!"

"A game night…?" Bruce asked her slowly, completely confused.

"Yes!" Harley said. "You know, where we all play a board game together. Or some other kind of game. But a game. You all never do that?" she said, looking from Bruce to Damian to Alfred.

"No…" Bruce said. The idea had never even once occurred to him. Batman didn't play games. Batman trained hard. And practiced. And studied. Dick and Jason had been in their early teens when Bruce had adopted them and they had never brought up the idea of games.

He supposed that Dick was too traumatized from his parents' deaths and Jason had simply never played them as a child given his rough life. Even Stephanie and Tim had never suggested playing any kind of games to him since they'd been living at the Manor. And Damian, he was sure, had no fuckin' idea what a board game was.

"I don't think we have any board games," Bruce said, frowning.

"Oh, we don't need one," Harley said easily. "We can play scattergories. Or charades. Or pictionary. You don't need the actual board games to play those."

"Ok…" Bruce said slowly, not really knowing what she was talking about. "Well, you're in charge of that," he said to Harley.

"Ok!" she said cheerfully.

"Would you mind showing us to our room, Al?" Jason asked him. "I'll bring Harley's suitcase up and we'll get settled in. And prep for game night," he grinned.

"Of course, Master Jason," Alfred answered. "And then I shall return and we shall finish baking our cake," he said to Damian, who nodded.

Bruce reached out to take Damian from Bane as Alfred, Jason, and Harley exited the kitchen, and he was surprised to realize that it felt almost natural to hug Damian to his chest as Bane had done. _Maybe I __**am**__ becoming a less shitty parent,_ Bruce thought hopefully, because Damian's arms had wrapped themselves around his neck just like they had to Bane's, and his little son was actually resting his head contentedly on Bruce's shoulder. Seriously, what the fuck.

"I think you're a magician," Bruce said to Bane with a little smile, but a lot of emotion in his eyes as he cradled Damian. "Bringing us all together like this." He looked down at Damian happily.

"Ah, not a magician, Bruce," Bane said slyly. "Just Bane. One of the smartest men on the planet." Bruce laughed out loud at that, looking back up to meet Bane's eyes. Which, he noticed, were surprisingly soft as they regarded him and Damian. Bruce blinked a little bit and smiled back, and his smile felt gentler and more authentic than he was accustomed to.

"Well, we appreciate you," Bruce said, and he meant it.

"I appreciate you allowing me to be here," Bane responded seriously. "It is a privilege to be able to atone for my past. And to become a part of your family," he added. Bruce nodded at him, wondering if Bane could see the forgiveness in his eyes. He supposed he could, because a little smile curled up at the side of Bane's mouth.

Upstairs in their guest room, Jason turned to Harley with troubled eyes as soon as Alfred returned to the kitchen.

"Do you hate me?" he asked her quietly. Harley's eyes popped open in shock.

"Jay, I could _never _hate you," she said seriously, reaching out to grab his hands and pull him down to sit with her on the bed.

"But I _left _him there," Jason said brokenly. "And honest to God, Harley, I didn't even think about it. Even since being back in Gotham."

"Jay, listen to me," Harley said. "You'd been through multiple intensely traumatic experiences. Being killed. Being resurrected and the empty shell that made you. Five _years _of emotionless training with the League of Assassins. And then, the Lazarus Pit. And Talia, who you were suddenly remembering as Bruce's girlfriend and a loving mother figure, except she was waiting to take you back to a life of viciousness and cruelty." Jason sighed and Harley gripped his hands tighter.

"Should you have left Damian there? No, of course not. But, it also wasn't completely your fault. Ok?" she asked him, lifting a hand to raise his head to look at her. "What do you always tell me about the Joker? And the things I did?" Jay nuzzled his head into her hand.

"Well, now I feel like an idiot," he mumbled, "because this shit feels entirely different when you're living it yourself."

"I know," Harley said gently. "I know, baby," she said again, leaning forward to hug him. "But would you tell me anything different for myself now?"

"No," Jason growled. "Of course not."

"Uh huh," Harley said, pressing some kisses to his cheek. "So you have to believe me when I'm telling you the same things." Jason kissed her head, but his eyes were filling with tears.

"Oh, sweetie," Harley said, "even if it was one hundred percent your fault, and you were just a shitty person who didn't give a fuck - what could you do about it now? Except what you _are_ doing. Repairing the damage as best as you can and trying to be a better person moving forward. It's ok," she reassured him again.

Jason looked into her eyes, trying to determine if she meant it or if she really did despise him, just a little bit. But all he saw there was love. He let out the breath he'd been holding and kissed her forehead.

"I love you, Harley Hood Todd," he said to her raggedly.

"I love you, too, Jay Rob Hood Todd," she told him back. And Jay believed her.

Damian's cake was cooling on the counter by the time Steph and Tim got home from school and he was training in the gym with Bruce and Bane, like he normally did in the afternoons. Steph was swinging her way into the kitchen with Tim at her heels to grab a snack, like they usually did before joining Bruce for their daily workouts.

But she stopped in surprise, causing Tim to bump into her, although he quickly grabbed her to keep her on balance. He looked over her shoulder to see why she'd stopped. Jason and Harley were sitting at the kitchen table, drinking coffee. Jason's eyebrow had quirked up in amusement, although whether it was at Steph on crutches due to the Bane incident, or at their startled expressions, or at Tim's quick reflexes at catching her - or his prior clumsiness - Tim couldn't tell.

"Um, hi," Steph said.

"Hi," Harley said mildly. "You must be Stephanie. And Tim."

"Yeah," Tim said slowly. "I guess you're… Harley Quinn," he said back. Jason's eyebrow was back up and looking a little sharper.

"Harley Todd," he corrected. Steph and Tim glanced at him.

"This is your brother, Jason," Harley introduced. "He and Bane are gonna stay the night and leave tomorrow. Shit got weird this afternoon."

"Ah, ok," Tim said, with absolutely no idea what she meant. "Well, um, we're gonna get a snack before working out."

"Good!" Harley said brightly. "We can talk while you eat."

"Ok," Steph said reluctantly, hobbling to the chair which Tim pulled out for her. He took her crutches as she sat down.

"How's the ankle?" Jason asked her, taking another sip of coffee.

"Um, it's ok," Steph said. "I got four or five weeks left in the cast, though."

"Ouch," Jason said sympathetically.

"If only you hadn't been out there fighting _Bane,_" Harley drawled casually. Steph groaned and rolled her eyes.

"Bruce has already given me an earful about that," she said as Tim started fixing them some sandwiches.

"Did you listen?" Harley asked her.

"Sure," Steph said. "Yes. We're not going out without Batman anymore. We promised."

"But you're still going out," Harley said. It was a statement, not a question, and dripping with judgment. And, ok, maybe a hint of concern, too. Not that Steph wanted to admit that Harley might be more than just snark.

"We _like _going out." Steph tried to say it with the full level of teenaged-girl attitude she had used on Bruce last week, but she found, to her dismay, that it was a lot harder to sass Harley Quinn. Todd. Harley Todd.

"Surrrrre," Jason said sarcastically. "It's all fun and games until someone gets _killed._" His eyes had started to glitter dangerously.

"We're prepared to face that outcome," Tim countered as he returned to the table, setting the sandwiches down before returning to the kitchen for glasses of water.

"You _cannot_ be serious," Jason said flatly. His face had gone hard.

"Babe…" Harley murmured in caution, laying her hand on his forearm.

"I'm completely serious," Tim said as he came to sit at the table next to Steph. "Many noble professions require the willingness to lay one's life on the line for the greater good. The police force. Firefighting. The military. Ours is no different and we accept the risks." Jason was breathing hard, clearly ramping up for a fight. It was Harley who spoke, though.

"But you're _children,_" she pointed out. "Minors. No one is allowed into any of those professions until they're adults. Because children should be given the opportunity to grow up before making those decisions."

"That is just like an adult," Steph fumed. Harley's eyebrows shot up.

"Excuse me?" she said.

"Assuming that just because we're kids, we're, what? Blank slates? Non-people? Morons? Too young to know our own minds? It's not like kids in war-torn countries get a full childhood to grow up all peacefully before making hard decisions and sacrifices. Kids are people, too, and it's so disrespectful to assume that we can't know ourselves well enough to accept what we're risking. We do."

"Besides," Tim pointed out, quickly backing her up, "it's not like Bruce recruited us. We both found him." He looked guiltily at Jason. "I know it wasn't the same for you, though," he mumbled. Jason took a deep breath and let it out.

"No," he said tightly. "It wasn't." Steph glanced at him quickly, embarrassed, before looking down at her sandwich.

"What even made you two want to do this?" Harley asked them. And it was in a slightly gentler tone, Steph had to admit to herself, with more curiosity than accusal.

"Well," Tim said, swallowing a bite of his sandwich, "I met Dick when I was a kid. When he was with the Flying Graysons."

"Oh!" Jason said, surprised.

"He was my hero, actually," Tim grinned with some adorable pinkness coloring his cheeks. "And that's how I figured out who Batman was, later. I saw Dick do one of his signature acrobatics moves as Robin."

"Well, that was clever," Jason said, and he actually meant it. "So what, you wanted to be like Dickie?" he grinned, but it wasn't the nicest smile. _There's some tension there,_ Steph realized, hearing Jason's derisive tone when it came to Dick.

"No, not exactly," Tim was answering. "Not until Batman sunk so low. After you died," he said to Jason. "And after he came back from Bane breaking his back. He was… different. Super violent. In a really dark place. And he didn't have a Robin anymore. I guess Dick wanted to move out on his own to Bludhaven when he grew up."

"Anyway," he said. "I asked him to train me. I thought about the risks," he said, looking at Harley, "and I was already a good gymnast. And good at computers. I'm better at computers than fighting, actually," he said. "But Bruce has trained me really well in fighting. I thought I could help him. And I have," Tim finished calmly. Harley and Jason glanced at each other.

"He was really doing that bad?" Jason asked Harley. She nodded.

"Yeah, for the man who wouldn't kill, it was kind of crazy how far he'd go up to that line. Torturing perps and shit."

"Damn," Jason breathed. "Never would've thought the old man had _that _in him." He thought for a minute. "Talia had left him, too. Disappeared without a word. That… was a lot of stress on Pops in just a few years."

"And, uh, I was constantly trying to kill him," Harley said, ducking her head with a little smile. Jason laughed.

"That was for _me, _though, baby, he deserved that," Jay said, kissing her cheek. Harley grinned and turned to give him a real kiss on the lips, which made Steph kind of smile to herself. It was… _nice… _to see a married couple getting along. Her parents had fought constantly when she was growing up. Over her dad's constant crimes, at first, and then her mom had turned to pain meds to numb out which, ironically, only made the fighting worse.

"And you, Stephanie?" Harley asked her, catching her eye. "Why on earth did you want to become a vigilante?"

"Well, my dad was the Cluemaster," Steph started to say, causing Harley to sit bolt upright.

"You're _Arthur's _daughter?" she asked Stephanie in shock. Steph's eyes widened.

"Yeah - oh. You know him?" she asked Harley, remembering exactly who the hell was sitting across from her. At Bruce's kitchen table. Drinking coffee like a normal member of society.

Harley nodded, her eyes softening. "Yes, I do," she said. She looked at Stephanie more thoughtfully, as if considering how much to say. "You know Amanda Waller? The warden at Arkham?" Steph and Tim nodded.

"She had her own agenda with Arthur's therapy. Had his psychologist deprogram him from leaving clues." Steph gasped.

"Why? - Why?" she asked. "That's why I became Spoiler. I was so _angry_ at him for not leaving the clues anymore because it meant that he wouldn't get caught and stopped."

"Yeah, a good therapist would've never taken that away from him," Harley said. "That was his only deterrent to crime. Waller wanted to put him on her Suicide Squad - private team of mercs," she explained when Tim and Steph looked confused. "Blackmails them into it. And she couldn't have Arthur leaving clues everywhere on their missions, so…"

Steph's eyes were filling with tears and Tim reached out comfortingly to take her hand. "I killed the psychologist, though," Harley said. "When I found out. And threatened the shit outta Waller if she ever pulled a stunt like that again with a patient's therapy. That was absolutely disgusting," Harely said with venom, reminding Tim and Steph that she had once been a licensed therapist herself.

"But, my dad?" Steph asked her. "He's still being forced to be on this team?" Harley actually gave her a kind smile.

"Yes and no. Arthur told Waller that she didn't need to threaten him, that he volunteered. Said he wanted to redeem himself so that one day his daughter might be proud of him again."

"Oh," Stephanie said quietly. A few tears slid down her cheeks. "I don't visit him," she said.

"I know," Harley said gently. "You don't have to. That's not why I told you." Steph nodded, wiping her tears. "Why are you living here with Bruce?" Harley asked her. "What happened to your mom?" Steph's eyes got a little more tortured.

"She got on pain pills when she was still with my dad. And it kept getting worse… she got fired from her nursing job after he went to Arkham and actually lost her license because they caught her stealing pills from the patients. Tim was already living here and we had become friends. As Spoiler and Robin," she clarified. "I hadn't wanted to stop fighting crime when my dad went to Arkham so I asked Batman to train me as Batgirl instead of continuing to be Spoiler."

"Bruce sent my mom to rehab when he found out how bad things were with her. We were about to get kicked out of our apartment. But… my mom really didn't want to get clean. As soon as she got out, she started using again. Bruce would've helped her get back on her feet after if she'd stayed sober but… she just doesn't want to."

"Addiction is rough," Harley said empathetically. "And without a desire to change…"

"Yeah," Steph said sadly. "But she did sign legal guardianship over to Bruce, at least, so I didn't have to go into the foster care system." Steph sighed. "That's something, I guess." Tim rubbed her shoulder.

"My parents are in Europe," he offered without being asked. "My dad has a multi-year work contract over there. I asked to stay. To finish high school," he said slyly, causing Jason to chuckle a little bit. "They were friends with Bruce. Rich friends, not real friends," he added. "And they knew he was a good dad - um - I mean," Tim stumbled, turning red and looking away from Jason.

"It's all right, kid," Jason said in irritation. "You can stop with the fuckin' eggshells."

"What?" Steph asked.

"Walking on them," Jason growled. "Holy shit, I'm not gonna break down and curl up and cry every time you say something."

"Oh," Tim said. "Well, Bruce has been, lately." Jason snorted. And, to Tim and Steph's dismay, started chuckling some. Even Harley was grinning a little bit with a twinkling eye.

"Well, he kind of deserved that," Jason said finally. "But I think we're working through some of it now."

"Oh," Steph said. "Well… that's good."

'We're going to have a family game night tonight!" Harley said with enthusiasm. Tim and Steph looked… shocked. And confused. "Look at these kids," Harley grumbled to Jason. "I'm going to have to teach them _everything_ about having fun."

"Well, you're the best at that, baby," Jay told her with a grin.

"True," Harley agreed. "I've even gotten _you_ cracking jokes," she smiled before turning back to the teenagers. "Tonight, after dinner. Scattergories."

"Ok," Tim said slowly. Steph nodded her agreement before starting to get up.

"Well, we have to go train, now," she said, taking her crutches from Tim, who grabbed the plates and drinking glasses next and put them in the dishwasher.

"Have fun," Jason said dryly.

"See you at dinner," Harley added. They nodded again and headed off towards the gym.

"That was… not as bad as it could have been," Tim commented to Steph as they walked down the hall. She had to agree.

Back in the kitchen, Jason was looking thoughtful over his coffee. "At least they know the risks," he said finally. "And they wanted to do it independent of Bruce. It could be worse, I guess," he said.

"Yeah," Harley said. "I don't like it. I'm never going to like it. But… it could be worse," she echoed. "I'll tell you one thing, though. Our kids sure as _hell_ aren't becoming vigilantes as teenagers."

"Our kids…?" Jason said with a smile starting to warm up his face as he looked into Harley's eyes.

"Our future kids," Harley said. "If we want them…?"

"Hell, yes," said Jason. They leaned in for a kiss.


	12. Chapter 12

_**Chapter 12**_

Bruce was the last to make it to the kitchen for dinner. He wasn't exactly anxious about a family dinner with Harley and Jason there… but… who was he kidding? He was nervous as hell. Maybe not as nervous as when he'd been waiting for Harley and Jason to arrive this afternoon. But, still, he felt his stomach cramping up slightly. So much could go wrong.

Tim and Steph could fight with Harley. Jason could fight with him. Damian could make Jason cry. Jason could make Alfred cry. _He _might cry but that was nothing new anymore. Bane would - well, Bane would be their rock, Bruce thought, calming down slightly.

And there he was, leaning against the doorframe outside the kitchen entrance. "Bruce!" Bane said warmly. "There you are!" He took a few paces forward to meet him and gently gripped his upper arm as he searched his eyes. "All will be well, my friend," Bane said gently, noting Bruce's anxiety. Bruce gave him a weak smile.

"I wish I had your confidence," he said.

"Sit on pillows long enough, and one day, you will," Bane said with a wink, causing Bruce to chuckle. He felt his insides slowly relax, the way that he was noticing that they always did when Bane was around. It was odd how quickly someone who he'd lived without for so long was becoming a reassuring fixture in his life, Bruce thought. Not that he minded. He felt like he'd give anything for a few moments of inner peace, these days.

He'd always been a tense person, but he was _Batman_. He never used to see it as a negative. But Bruce was starting to remember that there used to be a time when he wasn't quite so tightly strung as he'd been these last seven years since Jason had died. Not that he hadn't had good reasons for becoming more stressed, given everything that had happened to him in that time period.

But… Bruce was starting to remember times when he'd felt _better._ When Talia was with him. When he was raising Dick. And Jason. He used to smile and laugh sometimes, back then. He used to feel genuinely happy when he was at home with Alfred and the kids or Talia, despite the burdens of being ever alert and fighting crime and keeping up a double life. He used to feel _content._

When was the last time that he had felt anything close to content? Bruce thought. His life had turned gray the day that Jason died, all the colors washed out in one moment. Talia had been his biggest comfort those first few months; Bruce didn't think that he would have survived the initial grief without her support.

But then one day not long after, she was gone, too. A phone message, thirty days of waiting for her return, and then nothing. At first Bruce had waited longer, although his anxiety had been growing day by day. It wasn't like Talia to not show up when she said she would. Or to not contact him with an update, at least.

Then, he'd started looking for her. _Everywhere._ Dick had helped. Together, they'd reached out to every possible contact who might have had news of her. But, she was gone without a trace and every possible lead led to a dead end.

Bruce would have kept looking - he didn't think that he ever would have stopped - except for the fact that Bane had come to Gotham and sprung the entire population of criminals from Arkham Asylum. What followed were the most grueling three months of hell of Bruce's life.

He was still reeling with grief over Jason's death and beside himself with despair and anxiety over Talia's disappearance and in that state, he had to catch every single super criminal that was unleashing destruction on his city. And when he'd finally done it, Bane had showed up at Wayne Manor and fought him in his exhaustion, mocking his secret identity and snapping his back, leaving him a pathetic and broken man who would never be the same.

Bruce had never admitted it to Dick or Alfred, but he'd wished so many times in the following months of healing and recovery that Bane had just killed him. What did he have left? His son was dead and Talia was gone. Bruce supposed that he'd never really gotten over the depression that he'd sunk into back then. It was no wonder that his conscience was gone by the time that he and Dick were able to overthrow Bane's rule of the Gotham underworld.

He just didn't give a shit about humanity anymore after that. Drug lords? Sex traffickers? Why not fuck them up as badly as he possibly could? He needed information from a perp? Why not torture it out of them? Who cared? Dick did, and Dick went back to Bludhaven, leaving Bruce alone in his darkness.

Where he would have stayed, had not the plucky and bright-eyed Tim Drake come to him, refusing to leave him alone, insisting on being trained as Robin, and quietly exerting a positive influence on him until Batman began to draw back from some of his more gruesome methods of dealing with crime.

He'd slowly shifted his way back to a more reasonable center, but only for Tim; not because he really cared that much. It was easier to make Tim happy than to continue to brutalize criminals, and it was helpful to have a Robin, so, Bruce let go of the extreme violence.

And then Robin's little friend Spoiler had showed up, asking to be Batgirl after they put her father Cluemaster in prison, and even though Bruce supposed it was sexist, he felt even worse about crossing the line with a girl sidekick in tow, so he cleaned up his act a little more.

By the time Talia had shocked him by reappearing and dumping Damian on him, Bruce was a more or less moral person again. And even though his heart, which had never really recovered, had turned completely numb again on that day at the stunning heartbreak of Talia's transformation, the joy of having another child, Damian, was a constant glow coaxing drops of feeling out of him.

He hadn't been the very best father so far, but he'd done all right, he thought, with Damian these last few years. At least, he hadn't completely fucked up like he'd done with Jason. And if Bruce's heart was coming back to life more earnestly these past few weeks, it was only because Damian's presence had already started the process. His odd little child probably had no idea that he was such a healing force to his father.

And now, here was Bane, his once most despised enemy now become the person who brought him the most calm and hope. Life was funny, Bruce thought, feeling glad that Bane was there to help referee the family dinner in case of trouble. He still felt a little apprehensive about how the meal might go but he took a deep breath and gave Bane a half-smile. "Let's get this over with," he grumbled, but without quite as grumpy of a tone as he might have used a week ago.

"Such a positive attitude, Bruce," Bane complimented him teasingly, laying his hand on Bruce's back as they walked into the kitchen together. "The pillows are working already." And Bruce laughed out loud despite himself.

Harley was giggling with her arms around Jason's neck, one of his arms slung around her waist, when they walked into the kitchen, and it suddenly hit Bruce hard that he wanted _that._ After years of grief-imposed solitude with the occasional bout of casual sex, Bruce suddenly felt hungry for true romantic companionship again.

Because when he looked at Harley and Jason's loving intimacy and easy compatibility, Bruce felt a hunger in his heart for a partner who he could share things like that with again. Talia was lost to him, and the possibility of finding anyone else who might fit into his inordinately strange and duplicitously secretive life seemed slim, but - Harley and Jason were both in as unique a situation as he was, and here they had found each other.

And they were _happy. _Against all the odds. No wonder they had just up and gotten married. When your life was that insane and you found someone that perfect, why doubt it? God, Bruce would love to be that happy again, he thought. And that in love. And that paired up with an equal. For all that he had Alfred and his kids, Bruce lacked a true companion.

It would take a miracle to find someone who would fit into his life, Bruce thought wistfully, but… he could still hope. He supposed that hoping was better than despairing, when all was said and done. But he sighed a little bit.

As he glanced up to the side, he saw Bane's eyes regarding him thoughtfully, with perhaps a touch of concern. "I'm fine," Bruce muttered to him quietly, but Bane just raised his eyebrow.

"Oh, Master Bruce!" Alfred said, upon seeing him and Bane. "Dinner is ready to be served."

"Sounds good, Alfred," Bruce forced himself to say cheerfully, moving to the kitchen table as Alfred carried the lasagna over. The table was already set with salad and garlic bread so Bruce and the others shuffled over to begin to sit down.

Except, Bruce realized seconds later, Steph and Tim were turning dinner seating arrangements into their own version of the "not it" game, each not wanting to sit first and get stuck sitting next to Harley and Jason who were still flirting with each other as they slowly made their way to the table, trailing behind everyone else. Alfred, of course, didn't want to sit until the others had sat. And Damian was watching Tim and Steph curiously, too engrossed in analyzing their unusual behavior to take his own seat.

Bruce rolled his eyes. "Oh, for God's sake," he grumbled. "Damian, sit," he ordered his small son. "Jason," Bruce said, pointing next to Damian. "Harley. Alfred. Steph. Tim. Bane." And Bruce sat in between Damian and Bane, the latter of whose eyes were twinkling at Bruce's take charge attitude. Bruce gave him the ghost of a smile back.

"Dinner smells delicious, Alfred," said Harley as he began dishing out the lasagna, and Bruce offered a silent thank you to the universe for his therapist daughter-in-law who was getting the conversation off to a completely safe and surefooted start.

"Alfred is teaching me to cook," Damian informed Jason as he accepted his plate. "But I have not learned how to make lasagna yet."

"It's not hard," Jason said, smiling at him. "And there's so many different things you can put inside it to change it up every time you make it."

"You can cook?" Damian asked him curiously.

"Yeah," said Jason. "I love to cook."

"Oh," said Damian thoughtfully.

"He cooks me dinner every night," Harley said with a loving smile straight into Jason's eyes, which of course he returned.

"I love to cook for my girl," Jason said to her sweetly, pecking her lips with a kiss, and Bruce felt a stupid lump in his throat. "Remember that, kiddo," Jason said, turning back to Damian. "Ladies love a man who cooks."

"But I don't love ladies," Damian said calmly, prompting laughter from around the table.

"Men also love a man who cooks," Harley said, winking at Bane, who grinned at her. "And so do friends. And family members," she added, grading the conversation back down to Damian's age level as she met his eyes.

"And Osito loves to be cooked for," Bane added with a teasing smile. Damian frowned.

"Bane, I do not believe that Osito can eat food, so he would not care if I cook or not," Damian said.

"Osito could eat stuffing," Bruce said. "You could learn to make that."

A moment of silence fell before the giggling and groaning started. "Bruce!" Harley, said. "Oh my God, you made a joke?"

"The worst Dad joke ever," Tim groaned.

"I've been known to joke," Bruce said somewhat grumpily but with a tiny smile on his face.

"Not by us," Stephanie said seriously. Bruce and Jason glanced at her.

"No, maybe not," Bruce said more quietly. There was a brief pause around the table.

"Well, that's what game night is for," Harley said into the awkward silence. "To get everybody laughing again." Bruce met her eyes gratefully and to his surprise, she smiled warmly at him.

"Well, you're going to have your work cut out for you with this family," Bruce told her with a wry smile.

"I'm Harley Quinzel Todd," she declared confidently and without concern. "Here to turn your frowns upside down." Despite himself, Bruce chuckled.

"See, Pops?" Jason said around a bite of garlic bread. "We have a professional in the house. Not five minutes into dinner and you're already cracking a smile."

"Hmph," said Bruce, but he didn't look annoyed. "How did you manage to get married, by the way?" he suddenly asked Jason and Harley. "Considering that Jason's legally dead and Harley's a convicted criminal?" They glanced at each other.

"Well…" Harley started slowly. Jason looked like he was trying not to laugh.

"What?" said Bruce suspiciously.

"You're gonna hate it," Jason said, lips twitching.

"Like I don't hate everything," Bruce grumped sarcastically. "Just tell me."

"Well," Harley restarted, "it's legal for captains of a boat or an airplane to perform marriages in international waters. And… I happened to have a friend with a plane. So, that's how we did it. No messy marriage licenses and death certificates and things like that. Perfectly legal," she said.

"What friend?" Bruce asked her, raising an eyebrow.

"Oh, hm?" Harley said. Jason ducked his head down as his quiet laughter started.

"What friend had the plane?" Bruce growled, giving Jason a look.

"Leshthegurrt." Harley mumbled. Bruce just stared, daring her to make him ask her to repeat it. She sighed and cleared her throat. "Lex Luthor. Ok? Lex has a private jet. We may have worked together occasionally in the past. He was happy to help. Threw us a lovely champagne brunch afterwards as we flew back to Metropolis. Very classy. The photos came out beautifully. We'll send you some," she uttered rapidly in one breath.

Jason was full out giggling now, tears coming out of his eyes. Bruce heaved out a beleaguered sigh and rolled his eyes up to the ceiling. Steph and Tim, good crimefighters that they were, looked horrified.

"There, there, Bruce," Bane said, patting his back as he fought back a smile. "It could have been worse."

"Really?" Bruce asked him dryly. "How?"

"You could have been invited to the wedding," Bane said, eyes twinkling. Jason coughed and broke out into actual laughter as Harley giggled and even Alfred looked amused. Damian merely continued eating in his orderly fashion, quietly observing and mentally documenting the nuances of his family's social interactions as his eyes darted back and forth from person to person.

Bruce found himself smiling back at Bane against his will. _He's so good for me,_ Bruce thought to himself as his irritation melted away in the face of Bane's gentle teasing.

"An apt reminder to be grateful for the small blessings in life, Master Bane," Alfred said wisely, giving Bruce a dry and very British smile which caused Bruce to chuckle.

It felt good to laugh again, Bruce realized. He couldn't remember the last family dinner they'd had where anyone had laughed. Maybe… maybe Harley was a good addition to his family, after all, he thought to himself. Everyone seemed more cheerful when she was around.

And he'd never known Jason to laugh so much. Hell, the kid had barely smiled when he was a teenager. But here he was now, all grown up and alive and _happy_ and if it was Harley Quinn who made him that way, then… maybe she wasn't so bad. Bruce only hoped that he'd feel the same way after a week of living with her in his house, but at least dinner was off to a good start and, as Alfred said, he would take the small blessings where he could get them.


	13. Chapter 13

_**Chapter 13**_

"Who's ever played Scattergories before?" Harley asked brightly as she and Jason passed paper and pens around the room.

The BatFamily was gathered in one of the cozier living rooms in the mansion with coffee or water and slices of Damian's cake to eat while they played. Truthfully, the texture seemed just fine to Bruce, and he somewhat suspected that Alfred was trying to raise Damian up to the level of a Great British Bake-Off champion, but as long as Alfred wasn't stressing his son out about it, Bruce figured he'd let him teach his way. Hell, maybe Damian would become a chef when he grew up instead of a vigilante. One could always hope.

As Bruce glanced around the room, he saw that no one had raised a hand in answer to Harley's question. Harley sighed a little bit. "Why am I not surprised?" she grumbled mildly to Jason, who only grinned at her.

"All right," Harley said, taking a seat on one of the sofas next to Jason, "there's... " she counted quickly, "eight of us, so make eight columns and eight rows on your paper," she instructed. "So the goal with Scattergories is to come up with a word that no one else comes up with. If someone else thinks of it, too, neither one of you gets a point. So you have to be creative," she told them.

Damian's eyes sharpened at the thought of competition and Bruce watched him grow more alert and hyper-focused in his seat next to Alfred. "What are the prizes for winning?" Damian asked Harley.

"The joy of victory," Harley said easily, prompting groans from all three children.

"That's so lame," Stephanie said.

"Not everything in life is about competing to get a prize," Harley said with a frown. "It's important to enjoy fun for the sake of fun."

"But fun is so much better with prizes," Tim argued logically.

"We will try harder," Damian added, looking indeed like he was ready to crush and destroy everyone in the room. Harley sighed in frustration but Bruce, recalling something, jumped up.

"I have prizes," he said, leaving the room. The family looked at each other.

"_Bruce_ has prizes…?" Tim asked skeptically. Damian looked eager.

"Perhaps some new weapons from Lucius?" he suggested, making Tim sit up straighter.

"Oh!" he said. "That would be great." The three children dissolved into a discussion over what new tech Bruce might possibly be bringing up from the BatCave as Harley groaned, leaning into Jason and looking across the room to Bane for support after glancing at Alfred who gave her a wry smile.

"Baaaane," she whined. "This is supposed to be about enjoying a game together. Not a giant mega-competition to win fancy _prizes,_" she complained as Jason cuddled her in comfort.

"Eh, you must start with where they are at, Harley," Bane said encouragingly. "At least we are all gathered together about to play the game, yes?"

"I suppose," she grumbled.

"Trust me, babe," said Jason, "all of us being in the same room together is a small miracle. Hell, playing a _game_ is a miracle. Just see what happens, it might turn out good," he said, kissing her head.

"Fine," she muttered, but she couldn't help smiling as Jason peppered her hair with little kisses in a blatant attempt to cheer her up.

"This family does respond well to competition," Alfred commented. "The children already seem much more enthusiastic," he noted and Harley sighed.

"Prizes," Bruce announced, coming back into the room with his hands full. He dropped the small packets onto the coffee table and the kids crawled forward eagerly to see…

"Are these… _friendship _bracelets?" Stephanie said suspiciously.

"Not just bracelets," Bruce smirked at her. "Necklaces. Keychains. And not just for _friends, _Steph, for _BFF's,_" Bruce said significantly. Steph looked at him in horror and groaned loudly.

"You never should have taught him that word," Tim said sadly to Stephanie, who was still moaning as she picked through the different two-halves-of-a-whole charms, ranging from hearts to aliens to teddy bears to … too many disgustingly cute objects to name.

"Bruuuuce," she whined. "You're such a _dad_." Jason noticed that Bruce seemed quite pleased, rather than offended, by Steph's comment and he felt a tiny piece of longing in his heart for the happier days when Bruce was _his _dad, before Robin.

Things were so good back then, he thought to himself for a minute, and he sighed. At least he and Bruce were starting to patch things up now, but… Jason missed that short year of his life when he didn't have to do anything for Bruce except be a kid. At least Bruce was starting to try harder with these new kids, though, Jason thought. Dad jokes at dinner and Dad prizes for game night… the old man wasn't doing half bad tonight in being a semi-normal parent.

"Well," Harley said, recapturing the moment, "this is fine. The winner can get first pick and we'll go in order of points."

"We're not going to wear them," Tim pointed out.

"You _will_ wear them," Bruce smirked, "all week. Or you won't patrol with Bane when he comes home." The kids groaned some more but Harley got a pleased smile on her face.

"Kind of evil," she said. "I like it, Bats, good call." A shade of Brooklyn was seeping through her voice and Bruce glanced at her suspiciously, getting treated to a huge wink and a toothy grin in return.

"So let's get started," Harley said. "Everybody's gonna pick a letter for words to start with, so you might wanna pick somethin' hard, but if it's too crazy it'll be hard for you, too, so be careful. Let's go around the room and write these down to the left of your rows. Jay, you start," she told him.

"J," Jason said with a wink to his wife.

"Good letter," Harley murmured back flirtatiously. "Alfred, you next," she ordered. They went around the room filling up the left side of their chart with letters until everyone had picked one.

"Now," Harley said, "we each get to pick a category, we'll do one at a time. And we all have one minute to come up with one word in that category for each letter. But you gotta try to make it different from everybody else's word, no point if it matches someone's. And at the end of the game, the one with the most points gets to pick the least awful bracelet!" she finished with enthusiasm.

"May I pick the first category?" Damian asked eagerly.

"Uh, sure!" Harley said, a little surprised that he was already so into it. "Bruce, you gonna keep time?" He nodded and set the timer on his phone. "All right, what's the category, Damian?" Harley asked him.

"Weapons with a blade!" Damian announced.

Harley's jaw dropped a tiny bit but Bruce had already said "Go!" and pens were scribbling across papers. Even Jason was writing furiously. Harley glanced at Alfred and he shook his head good-naturedly at her. She sighed and shrugged and started trying to come up with a blade weapon that started with the letter J.

The categories only got more vigilante specific as the rest of the family took turns choosing topics, but Alfred made up some points on his round with cooking spices (Bane did awfully well in that round, though, and Jason was a close third) and Harley kicked everyone's butts on psychiatric medicines. Jason surprised everyone by choosing classic American authors pre-1900 as his category, but Bane did equally as well as he did and Bruce wasn't far behind.

"We should play more rounds," Steph said when they finished, causing Jason to nudge Harley's side and give her a grin.

"I think the kiddies had fun," he said to her.

"We still need to meditate tonight," Bane said, prompting groans and "Bane, do we _have to?_" from the three Batlings.

Even Bruce looked like he was tempted to suggest forgoing meditation in favor of Scattergories but after he glanced over at Bane, he looked back at the kids and said, "Bane is right, we need to meditate and then Steph and Tim need to get to bed. Tomorrow's a school day. But," he added, "first we have _prizes!_" Harley laughed and clapped her hands in glee.

"Add up your points!" she ordered. The winner, unsurprisingly, was Bane. He shrugged modestly.

"I am the smartest man on the planet, they tell me," he grinned.

"Let's see," Bruce thought, "you need two prizes because you have two BFF's. Right?" he asked Bane. "Harley and Damian."

"And you, Bruce," Steph said, her eyes gleaming. Bruce suddenly looked a little self-conscious.

"We're not really BFF's," he said to Steph. "I told you, that's me and Alfred. Bane is… my NF."

"NF?" Tim asked even though Steph was trying, too slow, to clap a hand over his mouth to keep him from encouraging Bruce in his dad-antics.

"New Friend," Bruce said, looking very pleased with himself. Steph groaned like she was dying.

"NFHF," Bane corrected, eyes twinkling. Bruce looked at him. "New Friend _Hopefully _Forever," Bane said with a little grin. His eyes locked with Bruce's for a second and suddenly got so intense that Bruce felt a little off-kilter.

"NFHF," Bruce repeated, breaking eye contact and feeling oddly flushed. "But unfortunately, we don't have a bracelet for that, so Bane still gets to pick two."

After careful consideration of his options, Bane chose the split smiley face for him and Harley, carefully separating the halves and placing one bracelet on her outstretched wrist. "I dub thee BFF," he proclaimed solemnly, causing her to giggle. He repeated the process with Damian, offering him a teddy bear necklace, which Damian gravely accepted.

"Bane needs a third one," Damian said. "For him and Osito."

"Ah, of course!" Bane said delightedly, selecting a heart to share with his teddy bear friend.

"In second place," Harley announced dramatically… "Jay!"

"What?" Bruce said in mock protest. "You beat me, son?"

"I'm very smart," Jason said calmly as he leaned forward to pick through the charms. "I need two, I guess," he said. "For Harley and Damian." Damian looked inordinately pleased to be included on Jason's BFF list, although he managed to do so without smiling. Jason gifted him with an alien - "Because we're both a little weird," he said - and Harley with a heart, of course.

Bruce did manage to end up in third place, and true to his word, gave a charm to Alfred, although he included his BFF in the selection of the design choice, the two of them finally settling on the clock halves, since punctuality was one of Alfred's best traits. Bruce picked up a heart next and surprised Damian by handing it to him.

"For me, Father?" Damian said, almost glowing.

"Yes," Bruce said, kissing him on the head. Jason felt his eyes misting up a little bit against his will and he clutched Harley's hand tightly while he kept his jaw locked. She cleared her throat before announcing the next winner.

"Fourth place is… Damian!"

"What? - No fair!" Steph and Tim's angry protests filled the room.

"How did you beat _me?_" Tim asked Damian in a very aggrieved tone of voice.

"I am your superior," Damian said calmly as he and Osito looked through the remaining charms. Damian picked out a second teddy bear one for him and Osito to share.

Tim was still grumbling but a little placated when he came in fifth place, beating Harley, Steph, and Alfred. "All those damn specialty weapons you kids play with," Harley muttered. "A hammer and a gun, that's all I evuh needed," she pouted, making a face. Tim actually grinned at her.

"Now you see the folly of your ways," he said, causing her to laugh a little bit with pleasure. He picked a flower and handed the other half to Steph, who took it from him with a smile.

"I guess the rest of us already got our prizes?" Harley asked, seeing that the winners had already split charms with their BFF's. As they nodded, Tim found one more thing to groan about.

"Damian has the _most_," he complained. "How is that possible?" he said, looking at Damian's four charms. Bruce bit back a giggle and noticed that Bane was doing the same. Because really, Damian the near-sociopath had the most BFF's in the room?

"As I told you," Damian said, sounding annoyed at having to repeat himself, "I am your superior, Tim Drake. In _every way,_" he added with exceptional self-satisfaction.

"Yes, you are, kiddo!" Jason told him wholeheartedly, ruffling his hair cheerfully while Harley muttered 'Jay….' underneath her breath as Tim frowned. Harley pinched her eyebrows together and poked Jason in the side.

"What?" he muttered to her.

"Be nice to the Replacement," she whispered. Jason sighed and rolled his eyes.

"Not that the Replacement isn't great, too," he added heavily, although he caught Damian's eye and gave him the tiniest of winks. Tim raised his eyebrow.

"Why do you call me the Replacement?" he asked Jason.

"_Here _we go…" Harley muttered to herself, rubbing her forehead.

"Well," Jason said pointedly, smiling but looking more like a shark than a friendly puppy, "because Pops here _replaced _me with _you._"

"I thought you were dead," Bruce said flat out, meeting Jason's eyes with a harder stare than he had managed in the last month. "And I didn't take anyone on for years after you died. So you don't need to give Tim shit about it." And a collective shudder went through the room, because that tone was Bruce at full Batman force. A tone that his family hadn't heard out of him since Jason had first confronted him on the docks.

And Jason actually looked ashamed. "Sorry," he muttered, glancing at Tim, but he meant it. More or less. So Tim nodded back at him. An awkward silence fell in the room.

"Time to meditate," Bane announced cheerfully. "_Everyone,_" he added significantly, looking at Jason.

"Fine," Jason mumbled.

"Perhaps we might take a small restroom break first, Master Bane, and reconvene in five minutes?" Alfred asked him, starting to rise. "For those of us with _older_ bladders."

"Of course," Bane said gently. "We will begin in five minutes," he said, moving to start cleaning up the cake plates and coffee mugs. Bruce got up to help him. Jason tugged Harley out into the hall with him, ostensibly to show her where the nearest bathroom in their giant house was, but more likely to grumble about a few things with her.

Bruce met Tim's eyes as he picked up his dessert plate. "Let me know if he gives you more trouble," Bruce said to him seriously. "That's not his place and you don't deserve it." Tim nodded, feeling both surprised and touched that Bruce not only cared but had rallied himself enough to intervene. "I'll talk to Harley this week," Bruce added and looked over to Bane. "And you'll talk to Jason," he said, and it wasn't a request. Bane nodded.

"Of course," he said gently. "There is much anger covering much hurt there, and it is not healthy for him to direct it at my Batboy." And Tim smiled and Bane smiled back at him and Bruce noticed that Tim stood a little taller this time, when Bane called him Batboy. _Huh, _he thought, wondering what that was about. Because he distinctly remembered Tim getting upset at the term not that long ago.

Maybe… maybe he would ask Tim about it this week, he thought to himself. He ought to be more involved in the boy's life, Bruce thought guiltily. Because it hadn't just been this past month that Bruce had been absent from his parental role; Bruce couldn't say that he'd ever really taken on much of one with Tim, considering what a mess he'd been when Tim had first convinced him to train him as Robin.

If anything, Tim was the adult more often than not in their early relationship, and… that was a fucked up thing to do to a kid, Bruce suddenly realized. Tim always seemed so competent and so grown and so reliable and self-sufficient that Bruce had forgotten how young he was, sometimes. Because, holy shit, Tim was still in _high school _and he'd already been training with Bruce for three… four years, even? _Fuck,_ Bruce thought to himself._ Well, better late than never,_ he supposed.

Steph had already shuffled her way out of the room on her crutches to go to the bathroom, but Bruce thought to himself that he needed to get more involved in her life, too. She tended to chat more naturally than Tim did, and about random things, so he felt a bit more connected to her than to Tim, but absent-mindedly listening wasn't really parenting, when it came down to it, Bruce had to admit. He needed to do better for all of his kids.

Dick, too, he suddenly thought with a pang. They still hadn't talked since their huge fight and Bruce didn't really know what to do about that. Because Dick had been so off-the-wall with his hatred towards Jason and yeah, Bruce might have some regrets about how harsh he got with Dick at the end of it, but what the fuck was Dick thinking hating on a kid like Jason who'd been through so much hell? And then literally gotten killed by the Joker? Bruce could not for the life of him get it and he honestly didn't know how he could work things out with Dick if his son didn't stand down on some of his absurd over the top feelings.

_Well, let me start with the ones living here,_ Bruce thought to himself with a sigh. _And with Jason and Harley, _he mentally added. Maybe Bane would have some insight into Dick, Bruce thought as he followed Bane into the kitchen. Bane certainly seemed full of wisdom on just about every other situation in Bruce's life.

"Can I call you sometimes this week, while you're gone?" Bruce asked Bane as they stacked the dishes in the sink.

"Of course!" Bane said with a surprised but genuinely pleased smile and a warm look in his eyes that made Bruce, for the second time tonight, find his thoughts faltering.

"Thanks," Bruce said, looking down into the sink as he began to rinse the dishes off. Bane opened the dishwasher next to him and reached his hand out to load them in as Bruce finished. "I'm kind of stuck with my oldest son, Dick," he said, "and I thought you might have some ideas."

"Eh, I usually do," Bane observed with a little grin.

"I've noticed," Bruce said, returning it, "and since the pillows aren't speaking to me, yet…" Bane chuckled.

"You never know, Bruce, tonight could be your night," he teased. "Maybe they'll whisper words of wisdom into your ear as you sit and listen."

"Maybe," Bruce said, his eyes starting to twinkle a little bit. "But just in case they have nothing to say… I know that you will."

"Always," Bane said smiling into his eyes. And Bruce didn't know why it seemed a little harder to breathe for a second. Or why he felt a little flushed again as he smiled and looked back down at the dishes.

"You were a good father tonight," Bane said to him as they continued loading the dishwasher together.

"Hm?" Bruce asked him. "With the BFF bracelets? I ordered those last week to tease Steph when she was being too much of a teenager."

"The bracelets, yes," Bane said. "But I was referring to you standing up for young Tim."

"Oh," Bruce said, frowning. "Jason's been through hell, I get that, but I'll be damned if I'm going to let him take it out on Tim." The Bat growl was back and Bane didn't seem to mind. In fact, he seemed impressed.

"Yes," he said. "That was some good parenting, Bruce. Without any outside help, I might add." Bruce glanced at him. "I believe you may give yourself too little credit, my friend," Bane said to him thoughtfully. "This last month has been hard on you, yes, but… there is a strength and a sense of justice inside of you that has not faltered."

"Maybe," Bruce murmured. "There used to be," he said, sighing. "But honestly, Bane? It's been years since I've felt right. Since before Jason died. Everything since then…" Bruce trailed off, looking lost again.

"But now you are finding your way once more," Bane said, shutting the dishwasher and drying his hands on a dishtowel, which he passed to Bruce when he was done. "And the pieces of yourself that used to be, they are not lost. They are waiting inside of you for their rebirth."

"See, this is why I need you around," Bruce said, smiling a little bit more easily again. "To tell me things like this that give me hope that I won't be a fuck-up forever."

"Well, I was not a fuck-up forever, now was I?" Bane asked him, meeting his eyes.

"I… guess you weren't," Bruce said, shocked to realize that he'd almost forgotten how hellish Bane used to be. "That actually _is _encouraging," he said with a small grin. "If _Bane_ can change for the better, surely Bruce Wayne can."

"Of course he can," said Bane, slinging his arm around Bruce's shoulders as they walked back to the living room to meditate. And Bruce had to stop himself from wrapping his arm around Bane's waist, because that would be weird. Even though he felt strangely compelled to do it. Probably just because Bane was so touchy-feely, Bruce thought to himself. And comforting to have around. It was definitely nothing to worry about, though, that odd impulse.

Although, as the BatFamily closed their eyes and sat on their pillows together in silent meditation, Bruce's thoughts for the next hour kept coming back to the question of why he'd wanted to touch Bane.


	14. Chapter 14

_**Chapter 14**_

Bruce and Damian had taken night monitoring duty in the BatCave with promises to wake Bane and Tim if something urgent came up so that Bane could get to bed early, for once, since starting his new night schedule, so that he and Jason could leave first thing in the morning. Good-bye's had been said after meditating, since Bruce definitely wouldn't be waking up to see the travelers off at eight a.m..

"Take care of Harley for me this week," Jason had surprised Bruce by saying as they hugged it out before he went to bed. Bruce had blinked.

"I think Harley could take care of all of Arkham and probably most of Gotham," he said, meaning it as a compliment, but Jason had tightened his lips and shaken his head a little bit.

"She's fragile sometimes, underneath all that," he said seriously. "You'll watch out for her for me, Pops?" he asked him again and Bruce had nodded.

"I will," he said, noticing that his assurance did indeed seem to ease some of Jason's tension as his son nodded back to him.

"Why do you have to leave again when you just got here?" Damian had asked Jason with a frown when he hugged him.

"We'll come back, kiddo," Jason had said to him gently, reaching out to rub his hair but, Bruce noticed, not answering the question. Which, come to think of it, Bruce didn't really know the answer to either. Bane had only said that Jason needed to take care of something out of town and that Harley had asked him to go as well so that she wouldn't worry about Jason traveling alone.

Bane had said it in such a matter of fact manner that Bruce hadn't even thought to question what the business was, as apathetic as he still was most days. He trusted Bane and he figured he didn't care what Jason was up to. But ... the lack of full disclosure was troubling, when he began to think about it.

"We'll only be gone about a week," Jason had been saying to Damian when Bruce had tuned back in to the conversation, "and you can call me and Bane to talk to us while we're gone, ok?"

"Ok," Damian muttered.

"I promise, I'm coming back this time," Jason had repeated to him, surprising Bruce with his fatherly concern towards Damian. "And you know I'm coming back because I'm leaving Harley here with you," Jason had added with a grin.

Damian had looked over at Harley's smiling eyes and slowly relaxed a little bit. "Ok," he had sighed begrudgingly.

"Ok," Jason said with a smile, giving Damian one last hug and a kiss in his hair.

"Take care of yourself while I am gone, Bruce," Bane said when he had approached him to say good-bye. Bruce had nodded, meeting Bane's softly concerned eyes.

"I will," he said. "I'm doing better," he had added, feeling the need to reassure his friend.

"You are," Bane said. "Keep up with the pillows, you and Harley will make the Batbabies do it with you each night, yes?"

"Yes," Bruce had promised, wondering what it was about Bane's gaze that was making him feel so confused tonight.

Despite their daily practice, Bruce had never managed to completely lose his tension when Bane hugged him, but tonight as Bane pulled him into a hug, Bruce felt himself melting into it, thinking while he relaxed into Bane's arms about how much he was going to miss his friend, and how much he appreciated him, and how nice it was to have him around, and how good Bane's arms around him felt. But he definitely wasn't thinking about why he'd wanted to wrap his arm around Bane's waist earlier.

"I'll call you this week," Bruce said to him as they slowly pulled apart.

"Please do," Bane said, with a tender look in his eye that pulled a warm, albeit small, smile onto Bruce's face.

Bruce rarely had trouble sleeping, but he found himself tossing and turning long after he had tucked Damian in after a relatively peaceful night in Gotham that hadn't required the Batman to suit up. He felt… empty… when he thought of the week ahead without Bane's presence in the manor. And anxious, too, he had to admit, at the thought of being the only parent in charge again. And the only Batman in town.

_Fuck, _he suddenly realized. He was going to have to suit up and do patrols this week. Bane had benched Tim while he was absent, but Bruce, in his mental sluggishness, hadn't really pieced together the consequences of leaving Gotham unprotected during the week ahead. That was something that Bane, with only a week's worth of experience as Batman, hadn't even thought to consider and something that he, Batman 1.0, should have been on the ball about covering.

_Fuck, fuck, fuck, _he thought with frustration. Normally he might ask Dick to come patrol at least every other night if Bruce Wayne had to be out of town, so that Gotham still saw the Bat's presence, but him and Dick right now - well, Bruce couldn't exactly call him up and ask him to cover patrols in Gotham because he didn't _feel _like doing it. And even on the rare occasions that Dick _did _patrol as Batman, he always had either Robin or Batgirl with him. The city was too big and too stuffed with violence for one person to cover alone.

So, he was going to have to take Tim out with him? Oh, Harley was going to flip her lid about that. And, to be honest, Bruce had an uneasy feeling in his gut about taking his Robin out. What if he froze? What if he couldn't protect him? What if he was too slow, too broken, to do his job and his son got killed? Bruce shuddered, thinking back to finding Jason's dead body in the warehouse, and he pulled the covers up around him tighter.

He'd leave Tim at home, he decided. He was the Batman once upon a time without backup, years ago before he'd adopted Dick; he'd be just fine. Better to keep the kid safe, he thought. But making that decision didn't help Bruce find sleep any faster.

He was grumpier than usual when his alarm went off at one p.m. the next day and he thought about staying in bed, but he'd promised Bane that he was doing better, and his family needed him, so… Bruce reluctantly got up and got showered. As he exited his room, he noticed something dangling around the doorknob. Raising an eyebrow, Bruce lifted off one of the leftover BFF bracelets from last night.

It was half of a flower. As he curiously turned it over in his hand, he noticed that something was scratched onto the back of it: _NFHF_. The goofiest smile lit up his face as the happiest warmth filled his chest. _Bane_, he thought to himself, sliding the bracelet on. His New Friend Hopefully Forever.

Damian was hard at work cooking pancakes when Bruce walked into the kitchen, with Alfred on eggs and bacon duty, and Harley struggling to cut up fresh fruit at the counter, looking ridiculously inept. Bruce raised an eyebrow at her as he poured himself a cup of coffee after kissing the back of Damian's head and giving Alfred's shoulders a little squeeze.

"Do you need some help?" he asked Harley. She glowered at him.

"I neveh, evuh, cut fruit up before. What'sa point? When you could just bite it?" she looked as miserable as Damian had looked the day that Bane had imposed cooking lessons on him, to be honest.

"You never learned to cook, Harley?" Bruce asked her, thinking that surely she must have had _some _rudimentary kitchen skills before her descent into madness. But she shook her head aggressively.

"We mostly ate fast food, growin' up," she said. "Or packaged. Didn't have money for fresh fruit and vegetables," she said, making another awkward chop into a mango. "An' in college I ate in the cafeteria. Or got frozen food to cook at home. Didn't really have time or money to cook back then, either. An' I just ate out a lot when I was workin' at Arkham 'cause why bother cookin' after all that time not?"

"Oh," Bruce said, feeling guilty at how easily he took fresh food for granted, not to mention Alfred's cooking. "I guess you really like having Jason to cook for you, then," he said as he moved to get another knife and cutting board.

"Yeah," Harley said with a big smile as Bruce took the mango from her and pushed the carton of strawberries her way instead. "Jay-Jay's the best, Brucie. Not just for the cookin', either. But that part's really nice, not gonna lie." Bruce gave her a small but warm smile.

"You two seem really happy together," he said. She nodded, her face beaming.

"We are. We kinda had a little fight last night," she admitted out of the blue, "but we worked it out and made up. I wish he wasn't gonna be gone for a week," she pouted. "I ain't neveh had to live without him like this before." Bruce was surprised to see Harley looking so vulnerable, and he thought back to Jason's words from the night before.

"What did you fight about?" he asked her. "If you don't mind me asking," he said. "I'm surprised you two ever fight about anything."

"Oh, everybody fights," Harley said, slipping suddenly into more of a psychologist's voice. "Well, every healthy couple, that is," she amended. "If you ain't never fightin' I'm worried about what you're stuffin' under the rug. You know?" she asked him and Bruce slowly nodded.

"You just gotta resolve what you were fightin' about in a fair way and make up really good to stay a strong couple," Harley said, cutting up the strawberries with a little more ease than the mango.

"I guess that makes sense," Bruce said, thinking back to his and Talia's relationship. He actually grinned at the memories. "Me and Talia used to have some _crazy_ fights," he reminisced, "but, you know, she was _Talia_," he said with a little laugh. "I thought we were kind of abnormal as a couple, to be honest, that healthier people wouldn't be fighting like that."

"Nah," Harley said, shaking her head. "You always made up, right? And worked it out?"

"Yeah," Bruce said, fondly remembering some of the great make-up sex. "We did. And we were pretty good at figuring out solutions once we both calmed down. We were just two stubborn, strong-willed people," he said with a twinkle in his eye. "So we got into it sometimes."

"Of course," Harley said. "But you loved each other enough to solve each situation, in the end. I bet you miss her," she said empathetically, and Bruce nodded.

"I do," he said honestly. "I'd give anything to have her back, the way she was. But since I can't…" he sighed. "I miss having a relationship," he admitted. "Seeing you and Jason yesterday showed me how much," he said.

"Well, maybe you'll find someone else now that you're ready," Harley said encouragingly. "I never thought I _ever_ wanted another relationship after what Mistah J did to me. I didn't even have condoms in my safe houses!" she laughed and Bruce had to chuckle.

"But then Jay came along, and he was just so _right._" Harley said with a bashful smile. "I didn't want to admit it at first, but he fit me so perfectly, Bruce. And I've never been happier," she said, sighing with relief as she dumped the cut strawberries into the fruit salad bowl.

"Maybe I'll get that lucky, too," Bruce said, and even he could see that his depression must be improving if he could make such a hopeful statement and actually halfway believe it.

"I hope that you will," Harley said, smiling up at him. "You try real hard to be better, Bruce. Me and Jay both see that. You deserve to be happy, too," she said, reaching out and squeezing his hand.

"Thanks," Bruce said, marveling at how nice it was to have a conversation with Harley Quinn and realizing that he kind of liked her, now that she wasn't hellbent on killing him. Huh. The oddities of life, he thought. "So, your fight?" he asked her. "You gonna share?" he teased.

"Oh," Harley said, laughing a little bit. "It was about the Replacement. You know," she said, sighing and rolling her eyes a little bit. "I didn't like Jay going after him like that. And he didn't exactly like me not liking it. So." She shrugged. "We worked it out before we went to bed," she said matter-of-factly.

"Thanks for talking to him about that," Bruce said to her with genuine appreciation. "I was going to ask you to."

"He'll come around," Harley said. "But he's been through a lot, Bruce. There will always be some scars." Bruce nodded, thinking that Jason wasn't the only one scarred.

"Breakfast is ready, Father," Damian said, interrupting Bruce's reverie.

"Good work," Bruce told him, smiling as Damian carried the platter of pancakes to the table, followed by Alfred with the eggs and bacon. Bruce gave the fruit salad a final mix after adding the mango that he had finished cutting and he and Harley joined them at the table.

"I'm going to have to patrol tonight," Bruce said with a slight grimace to Damian. "I'll need you and either Tim or Steph on monitor duty in the BatCave." Damian nodded at once but Harley frowned and Alfred's eyes looked worried.

"You're not fit to be out there, Bruce," Harley said. He sighed.

"Maybe not," he admitted, "but I didn't think about Bane being gone all week. We can't leave Gotham unpatrolled; everyone will notice if none of the Bats are out for that long. And I can't call Dick in at the moment. Nightwing," he added, even though he figured that Harley probably already knew Dick's identity.

"Why can't you call Dick?" she asked.

"He and my Father had a vicious argument," Damian said calmly. "Dick thinks Father favors Jason. Father thinks Dick is jealous. They nearly came to blows." Bruce groaned and dropped his face into his hands but Alfred chuckled a tiny bit.

"A very accurate assessment of the events, Master Damian," he said, but then he sighed. "This is unfortunately not the first time that Master Dick and Master Bruce have had words."

"You two need to talk," Harley said seriously.

"I know," Bruce said, raising his head. "I was going to pick Bane's brain for some ideas on how to do that this week." Harley nodded.

"Good," she said. "But you still can't go out patrolling, Bruce. You're going to get yourself hurt when your mind's not fully focused." He sighed.

"Do you have any other suggestions?" he said. "I'm not sending Tim out. And I'm not suggesting taking him out with me, either. I won't risk him like that. But…" he trailed off. Harley bit her lip.

"I can do it," she said. Bruce looked at her. "Just tell me what to do," she shrugged, "and I'll do your Batstuff. I'm more than capable of handling criminals," she said with a grin when Bruce gave her a skeptical look.

"You'd have to suit up as Batgirl," he said. "We need the Bats' presence, not the Queen of Gotham's."

"That's fine," Harley said. "I should be able to fit into Steph's suit. I'll spar you and Damian in it this afternoon to get used to it." Damian's eyes lit up at the opportunity to fight Harley and she grinned at him, ruffling his hair.

"You'll need a partner," Bruce said, though. "I can't send you out there alone." Harley made a pffft noise with her mouth.

"I'll be totally fine," she said without the slightest ounce of ego, just the truth of experience giving her voice weight. "I ran Arkham and Gotham for seven years after killing Mistah J without anyone backing me up. I got this, Bruce."

"I know," Bruce said, "but I promised Jason I'd take care of you. He will _kill _me if I let you go out there by yourself." Harley hesitated. "Look, you made him take Bane with him for a damn road trip," Bruce pointed out. "You think he's gonna like you going out as Batgirl, not as Harley Quinn, by yourself?"

"I guess not," she conceded, chewing her lip. "But I'm not taking the kid out," she said, referring to Tim. "He don't belong out there anyway, no matter what you and Bane and him say. I ain't gonna put his life on the line like that with me."

"So where does that leave us," Bruce muttered, rubbing his face. Harley's face brightened.

"Say!" she said. "I got a really great idea, but you'll probably hate it, Batsy." Bruce sighed. Deeply.

"Let's hear it," he growled reluctantly.

"I been wantin' to get the Suicide Squad outta Arkham for awhile now," Harley said. "They can be my backup."

"What the fuck is a Suicide Squad?" Bruce said, staring at her.

"Oh, you ain't heard about it yet," Harley said, remembering that she and Jay had only talked about it with Tim and Stephanie. "Your girl Waller's been runnin' an illegal merc squad with some of her inmates, blackmailin' everyone into suicide missions, threatenin' their families on the outside if they don't participate."

"'Course we ain't never gotten ourselves killed yet," Harley said, "'cause I been makin' sure that we're a tight unit and we cover each other's backs. And they've been doin' ok without me so far, I trained 'em good. But I need to get them outta there and this is as good a time as any to do it."

Bruce's eyes had gotten huge, but they almost as quickly narrowed into anger and the hard lines of Batman's face showed up in his clenched jaw. Damian had stopped chewing and he looked absolutely intrigued and Alfred looked most disturbed.

"That fuckin' bitch," Bruce said in a low voice. "I supported her placement as warden because I thought she'd be _better _for the inmates," he growled. Harley gave him an assessing look.

"That's what happens when you trust the Man," she said. "You oughtta know better by now, Bats." He shook his head angrily.

"We need to get her removed," he growled.

"Now, now," Harley said, patting his arm. "Let's not be hasty, Brucie. Waller's got her uses. We just need to pull her strings a little more to make her work _for _us instead of _against_ us." Bruce looked at her questioningly. "Her missions ain't half bad," Harley said. "They need doin'. She's just goin' about it the wrong way, forcin' people into it and not providin' us with adequate backup and exit plans sometimes." Harley smiled ruefully.

"Honestly, a lot of the Squad members don't mind bein' useful, they just don't want their families threatened and their lives bein' treated as worthless. Well, except for Deadshot," Harley laughed. "That stupid sonofabitch tries to get himself killed every mission we pull. Good thing he's too skilled for his own damn good," she chuckled. "Keeps comin' out alive no matter what crazy stunt he pulls."

The Batman glared at her with full intensity. "You _cannot _be thinking of freeing _Deadshot,_" he said to her flatly. "No way. He is off the table." Harley raised her eyebrow.

"Whoever I say is on the table, is on the table," she said with some steel in her voice. "He's got a daughter he never gets to see."

"So we'll get him visiting hours," Bruce said. "Deadshot will take any assassination contract offered to him. He's uncontrollable. He'd kill me. Or Robin. Or _you,_" Bruce said. "Or Jason. It doesn't matter to him," Bruce insisted. "He's a total loose cannon and he is too dangerous to let out."

"Like I haven't considered that," Harley said, rolling her eyes with as much attitude as Steph was in the habit of dishing out. "I wouldn't spring him without him agreeing to certain terms. I'm not an idiot, Bruce, sheesh," she groused. "I have a plan for all of this. Have had one for quite some time, in fact. Was just waitin' for the right time to make my move."

"I would very much like to meet Deadshot, Father," Damian said brightly.

Bruce growled a little bit but it was mixed with a resigned sigh. "You're not meeting Deadshot," he said to Damian before looking to Harley. "I'm not agreeing to this," he said, "Yet. But… I'll hear you out," he grumbled.

"Good," Harley said, leaning forward eagerly on her elbows as she prepared to brief the Bat on her failproof plan to free her Suicide Squad.


	15. Chapter 15

_A/N Deadshot is based on the character from the Justice League Animated Series (which is based on the predominant comics interpretation). _

_Standard disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. Don't kill people. _

_Trigger warning: Passing mention of childhood rape (not graphically described)._

_**Chapter 15**_

"Hey, Charlie, it's Harley," she said into the phone.

"Oh, hey, Harls, how you doin' on the outside?" guard Charlie Peterson asked her, his feet propped up on the monitoring desk in the west watchtower of Arkham Asylum as he idly worked on a crossword puzzle in his lap. He had his personal cellphone sandwiched between his ear and his shoulder as he spoke to Harley while trying to figure out an eight-letter word for a protective stone downspout. "Ends with E," he muttered to himself, tapping his pencil on his leg.

"Doin' good, Charlie," Harley answered him. "Listen, I need to talk to Deadshot for a few minutes. Can you get him for me?"

"Aw, sure thing, Harls," Charlie said, tossing his crossword and pencil onto the desk. "It's just about my break time."

"I know," Harley said, grinning at Bruce who was listening in on speakerphone as they sat in the BatCave together.

"Gimme five minutes, Harls, and call back," Charlie said, lumbering to his feet and grabbing his nightstick.

"Will do, Charlie. Thanks," Harley said. Bruce eyed her. She smirked back at him.

"Just like that," he said to her dryly. "You can get Deadshot on the phone."

"Sure," she said, cracking her gum, which she'd started chewing again since Jason had been gone, which caused Bruce to suspect that the gum was a nervous habit and that perhaps Harley was indeed a little more sensitive underneath her tough exterior than she liked to let on, as Jason had cautioned him.

"It's good to be the Queen," she shrugged, spinning herself around in the comfy desk chair at the BatComputer while she waited for the minutes to tick by.

"What did you have to do for him?" Bruce asked her curiously. "Do you have a payroll or something?"

"Nah," Harley said. "Who's got the time for all that boring work? I ain't the Penguin, Batsy, sheesh," she said. "I offer more personalized favors and incentives," she said. Bruce's eyebrow shot up.

"Like _sex _favors?" he asked her.

"Ew!" Harley shrieked. "No! You dirty old Bat. Ick!" she said, shaking her arms and legs wildly like she was trying to get the psychological slime off of her.

"Sorry," Bruce said, his lips twitching. "It was the way you said it."

"Get your mind out of the gutter," Harley chastised him. "I help people with their _non-sexual _problems," she said. "Charlie, for instance, his mom's got real bad cancer and she didn't have no health insurance coverage. I took care of the bills for him and we got her a real good doctor."

"Oh," Bruce said, honestly surprised and kind of touched, too, at the non-criminal element to Harley's manipulation tactics. Well, he was sure how she got the money to pay the bills was illegal, but… that was a pretty kind favor, he had to admit. He could see why Charlie would be loyal to her.

"We don't know if she's gonna make it," Harley said. "It's Stage Four. But, at least she's got good care now, ya know?" she said. Bruce nodded. "Ok, time to call back," Harley said, re-dialing.

"Harley again," she said when Charlie answered.

"Here ya go, Harls," he said and a second later they heard Deadshot's voice on the line.

"Lawton," he drawled.

"Hey, sweetie," Harley said cheerfully. "You got the last care package I sent?"

"Sure did," he answered her. "Nice upgrade on the helmet, honey."

"I do my best," she answered modestly.

"Chocolate bars were nice, too," he said. "Could have had a higher THC content, though." Harley giggled.

"Now, Floyd, I didn't trust you to not eat it all at once," she said.

"Well, that was probably wise," he said. "What's up, honey? Why you calling?"

"Long story short," Harley said, "I married Red Hood and his old man is the Bat, as it turns out."

"Well, congratulations and ho-ly-shit," Deadshot answered her dryly. "That'll be an interesting Thanksgiving." Harley giggled.

"We're working it out," she said. "That's why I'm calling, actually. Batsy needs some help patrollin' this week and Hoodie's outta town. I'm gonna suit up as Batgirl but I need some backup."

"And you thought of _me_?" Floyd said. "I'm flattered. Does the Bat know?"

"Yeah, here's the thing," Harley said. "I'm gonna get Waller to released the whole Squad. But… I can't have you takin' no contracts no more, Floyd." He sighed.

"And here I was _so _looking forward to seeing the sun again," he drawled. "I guess I'm out, Harls. You know how much pride I take in my work."

"Yeah, I know," Harley said. "But I was gonna keep bookin' jobs for the Squad with Waller. Just with pay and better weapons and backup. So you'd still be gettin' out there," she pleaded with him.

"But there's nothing like a solo assassination contract," Deadshot mused. "It's such an _art form_, Harley. Planning the hit. Pouring over details late at night. Cleaning my guns. It's a _ritual,_" he said. Harley laid a warning hand on Bruce's forearm as he looked like he was about to growl and make his presence known.

"Well…" Harley said, considering, "what if… you only took jobs that I ok'd? 'Cause I can't have you killin' just anybody, Floyd. That ain't gonna go over well with the in-laws."

"You want to be my _pimp_?" Floyd chuckled.

"Manager," Harley corrected with a smile. "Agent."

"Pimp," Floyd said.

"Whatever," Harley laughed. "Is that a yes?" Deadshot hesitated. "You'd get to see your daughter," Harley said and he sighed.

"Fine. Yes. But you're only getting a 10% booking fee and not one percentage more," he said.

"Fifteen," Harley said.

"Eleven," Floyd countered as Bruce rolled his eyes back in his head as far as they could go.

"Twelve point five, and that's as low as I'll go," Harley said.

"All right, Your Majesty," Lawton said, laughing a little bit. "Deal."

"Good," Harley said. "I'll call you back with the release details once I've got Waller under my thumb," she said.

"You're not springing Boomerang, I hope," Deadshot said with a slight edge to his voice.

"_Hell _no!" Harley said. "After what he pulled in Nicaragua?" Lawton snorted.

"Good," he said. "Ta-ta for now, darling," he signed off, hanging up the phone.

Bruce snorted and rubbed his eyebrows. "I need some aspirin," he muttered.

"What?" Harley asked him, looking genuinely perplexed at his distress. He gave her a hard BatStare.

"You're taking a _booking fee _on his assassinations which, oh, by the way, you'll be _scheduling _for him," he said to her.

"It's better than him taking whatever comes his way," she said, confused.

"You know what would be even better than that?" Bruce said sarcastically. "_Keeping him in Arkham._"

"Oh, Bruce, you worry too much," Harley said, patting his shoulder. "There's a lot of bad people in the world who would never get convicted in court. That's why Waller put the Squad together in the first place. Politics is a dirty game," she said. "It's not all Scarecrow masks and coin flips out there in the real world." Bruce sighed.

"This is how I know I'm a broken man," he said, stretching his legs out in front of him as he leaned back in his chair. "I'm not even stopping you from doing this. Sure, Harley," he said, airily waving his hand like a king, "take Deadshot out of prison. Run the world. Be my guest."

"I was already doin' all that without your permission, ya know," Harley said with a little grin. "But if it makes ya feel better to pretend that you're in charge, by all means, go ahead and approve of me." Bruce gave a tired chuckle.

"Who are we calling next?" he asked her, not even arguing her point.

"Arthur Brown," Harley said. Bruce jerked and sat up straight in his chair.

"Arthur's on the Squad?" he asked her in a low voice.

"Yeah, it's ok," Harley said. "I already talked to Steph about it. I'm not actually sure Arthur's ready to be let out," she said. "That's why I need to talk to him first." She chewed her lip. "Bein' a criminal is an addiction for him," she said, "and Arkham really is like his rehab in that sense. Keepin' him on a short chain, only lettin' him do the missions that Waller wants him on. I don't know that he can handle bein' out unsupervised but he'll probably want to stay on the Squad if he stays in Arkham."

"You think?" Bruce asked her, surprised.

"Yeah," Harley said with a softer smile. "He volunteered for it. Wanted to redeem himself for Stephanie, so one day maybe she'd be proud of him again. He's really dedicated and a good team member," she said.

"Oh," Bruce said gently. "That's… nice. You told Steph?" Harley nodded.

"I told her she doesn't have to visit him," she said. "But I wanted her to know. When I realized who she was," Harley said, shaking her head a little bit with a smile. "You sure do pick 'em, Bats," she said.

"Hey, she became Spoiler on her own," Bruce said. "That one's not my fault."

"Uh huh," Harley said with a twinkle in her eye. "And who made her BatGirl?"

"Tim had a crush on her," Bruce said, laughing. "What was I supposed to say, 'no'?" Harley laughed, too.

"So whatever Robin wants, Robin gets?" she teased him. Bruce shrugged.

"This Robin, yeah," he said a little bit more seriously. "If it's reasonable," he said. He looked at Harley with a little bit of guilt in his eyes. "Tim pulled me back from the brink," he said a little more roughly. "So… yeah. I wanted to give him something special."

"His very own BatGirl," Harley said dryly.

"Hey," Bruce said, "it's not like he's even worked up the courage to ask her out, yet. He's a shy kid." Harley frowned.

"How long has Steph been BatGirl?" she asked him. Bruce thought for a minute.

"Two, maybe three years?" he said. "Closer to two, I guess." Harley raised an eyebrow.

"You're not being a very good wingman, Dad," she said pointedly.

"Hey," Bruce said, "I'm being a good parent. For once," he grinned at her. "I don't need them having sex all the time in the house before they're even out of high school." Harley laughed.

"All right, point taken," she said. "But Tim's gonna be in trouble if he gets friendzoned one of these days."

"He won't," Bruce said confidently. "They're into each other. They just haven't admitted it yet. They're young, Harley," he said. "They've got plenty of time."

"For once in your life, you actually sound like you know what you're talking about," Harley said to him, giving him a fairly surprised look.

"I did actually used to be a good parent, once," Bruce said. Harley looked at him very skeptically.

"Well, an all right parent," Bruce amended. "Before adopting Jason. Dick and Barbara were Robin and Batgirl, way back when," he said. "And they're still together. Although Dick had the balls to ask her out before graduating high school," he chuckled. "He's the one who should be Tim's wingman. But I prefer a sex-free house, so don't tell Tim to ask him for advice."

"A sex-free house for you, too?" Harley teased, picking up on the most interesting phrase in his sentence. Bruce sighed dispiritedly.

"I don't bring people home," he muttered. "Hookups should never meet your kids," he said seriously, meeting her eyes. Harley's face softened.

"Well, you're not wrong about that," she said, chewing her lip. "Sometimes a spouse shouldn't meet your kids, either," she muttered, looking down as she fiddled with her hands. Bruce looked at her gently, a little bit of concern creasing his brow.

"Did… something happen to you?" he asked her finally when she stayed quiet. "But you don't have to answer if you don't want," he said. Harley sighed.

"No, it's fine. I mean, it's not fine, but - my stepdad raped me when I was a teenager," she said.

"Oh, Harley," Bruce said empathetically. "I'm so sorry."

"Yeah," she muttered, sniffing and wiping some tears out of her eyes. "At least the bastard won't be around much longer," she said, trying to make her face harder so she would stop crying. Bruce frowned.

"What do you mean?" he asked her. Harley looked at him like he'd asked a stupid question.

"'Cause Jay and Bane are on their way to kill him," she said, as if it was obvious. Bruce inhaled sharply.

"Bane is going to _kill somebody?_" he said tensely. Harley raised an eyebrow.

"Did he not tell you?" she said curiously. Bruce felt the Bat glower starting.

"No," he growled out. "He definitely did _not _tell me," he said.

"Oh," Harley said with a thoughtful little smile. "_That's _interesting," she said. Bruce raised his own eyebrow back at her.

"What's _interesting?_" he snapped at her. Harley twirled some hair around her fingertip.

"Oh, I don't know," she said lightly. "That your first concern was _Bane_ killing somebody and not Jay. And that _Bane _didn't tell you what he was up to this week. It's just… interesting," she said with a little smile. "That's all." Bruce stared at her hard.

"Bane is the new _Batman,_" he said to her. "He agreed not to kill people as the Bat."

"And he's not," Harley pointed out. "He's killing someone as Bane."

"Which he didn't tell me about," Bruce growled angrily.

"I wonder why that was…" Harley mused with a sharp glint in her eye as she looked at Bruce. "And you're so upset about it, Bruce, aren't you?" she murmured, almost to herself.

"Of course I'm upset about it!" he snapped. "I trusted him."

"Ah," Harley said, nodding.

"We've become friends," Bruce said. "He's living in my home. Parenting my children. Patrolling my town."

"Uh huh," Harley said. "Is that all he's doing, Bruce?" she asked him.

"What the fuck does that mean?" he spat out at her.

"Nothing," Harley said with her mysterious smile. Bruce gave her a disgusted look.

"How helpful you've been," he snarked at her as he stood up.

"Where are you going?" Harley said.

"To call Bane," Bruce said shortly. "You can call Arthur by yourself. But I want to be on the call with Waller," he said.

"Okey dokey," Harley said calmly, watching as he stomped out of the BatCave. "Very interesting," she said quietly to herself with another little smile, spinning around a little bit more in the chair as she prepared to call Mariah the guard, whose break was starting in the next five minutes.


	16. Chapter 16

_**Chapter 16**_

"Ah, Bruce! It's good to hear from you," Bane said happily as he answered his cellphone in the van with Jason.

"You couldn't tell me you were going to kill Harley's stepdad?" Bruce said flatly, his voice laced with barely hidden rage.

"Bruce…" Bane said, startled. "I… did not want to upset you, my friend," he said, and for the first time since he and Bruce had taken down King Snake together, Bruce heard a quiver of nerves in Bane's voice.

"Oh, you didn't want to upset me because I'm so fuckin' fragile? Is that it?" Bruce asked him, steel tones on attack.

"I did not mean it like that, Bruce…" Bane said, glancing helplessly at Jason, who, while the call wasn't on speakerphone, was listening in with some concern to Bane's side of it as he drove.

"Exactly," Bruce growled. "You didn't mean it like that at all, did you, Bane? Because that's not why you didn't tell me."

"Bruce -" Bane tried to say again.

"You didn't tell me because you knew I'd have an issue with it. We _talked _about you killing people, Bane!" Bruce snarled. "You promised not to!"

"As Batman, yes, Bruce," Bane said somewhat shakily.

"Right," Bruce said shortly. "Of course. So you felt the need to hide this from me."

"I didn't mean to hurt you, Bruce," Bane said nervously.

"I don't know what's worse," Bruce spat out. "That you wouldn't talk to me about it in the first place or that you automatically assumed that I didn't have the emotional maturity to agree to disagree with you about some things."

"Bruce," Bane said pleadingly, truly floored now at Bruce's accusations and feeling his stomach begin to clench anxiously.

"Because let's think," Bruce went on angrily, "Harley Fuckin' Quinn is living in my house this week and last time I checked, she still kills people whenever the fuck she thinks they deserve it."

"And let's take Jason," Bruce said, gathering steam. "My son. Who has killed God knows how many people as Red Hood and, barely even a month ago, committed one of the largest mass killings the city has ever seen. With Harley's help. And what have I done about it? I invited him to fuckin' dinner and played goddamn Scattergories with him."

"But here's Bane," Bruce continued in bitter anger. "Who doesn't even have the fuckin' courtesy to tell me he's off to kill someone because he thinks, what? I'm too immature to have that conversation?"

"Bruce, no," Bane said in distress. "Truly, I am very sorry, my friend," he said. "I did not mean -" he cut himself off, not knowing what to say.

"Yeah," Bruce said flatly. "I'll see you when you get back," he said shortly, and hung up the phone.

Bane's chest was heaving and there was a lump in his throat and he felt more upset than he had at any point in the last eighteen months since getting sober. And, were those a few tears threatening to fill his eyes? He wiped them away impatiently and sniffed, looking out the window as Jason continued to drive in silence.

After a minute or two, Jason spoke. "You've got it bad, huh?" he said.

"What?" Bane murmured, looking back towards him.

"For Pops," Jason said. "I saw the way you two were looking at each other last night." Bane sighed.

"Well, I suppose I have ruined any hopes of that now," he said dismally, the worst sinking feeling filling his gut as hopelessness started to set into his spirit. "I did not tell him we were on a quest to kill someone, so…"

"So he got mad," Jason said. "When he found out."

"Yes," Bane mumbled again. "I expect he will be firing me as the Batman and asking me to leave his home as soon as we return," he said, and now some tears really were filling his eyes up, and he huffed in frustration as he looked back out the window to try to maintain at least a _little _dignity in front of Jason.

"No way, man," Jason said reassuringly. "You can work this out."

"I do not see how," Bane muttered.

"Bane, dude," Jason said. "People fight. And make up. All the time. You know how many fights me and Pops have had over the years? _Before _I got killed," he said. "And even those weren't as bad as things between us these last couple of months. You'll be fine," he said comfortingly.

"I don't know," Bane said.

"You should've seen Pops and Talia go at it when they were together!" Jason said with glee. "Oh, my God, me and Dick and Alfred practically needed to put our Kevlar on just to come out unscathed during some of those."

"Shit, one time Talia grabbed the kitchen knives and started throwing them at Pops while she was screaming at him, and he had to grab a cookie sheet to block them, and then Alfred lost his _shit _because those were his really good knives, you know? And they were getting banged up hitting the metal like that as hard as she was throwing them, plus they were non-stick cookie sheets and you're not supposed to use metal tools on them, and he actually _yelled. _Only time in my life I've ever seen him raise his voice."

"Really?" Bane said, a tiny smile starting to creep up at the corners of his mouth.

"Yeah," Jason said, "Alfred said he was quitting and going back to England where he'd find himself a normal family who wouldn't ruin his kitchen equipment. And the fucker actually went upstairs and pulled a suitcase out and started packing."

"No," Bane said disbelievingly, starting to relax a little bit.

"Yup," Jason said. "And Pops followed him up there all upset and couldn't get him to change his mind and then he came back downstairs and started screaming again at Talia that she had to fix Alfred because who was gonna cook for us if he left, because _Talia _sure couldn't, and then Tals tried to convince him to stay but he got all huffy British on her, so she made me and Dick lock him in his room while she and Pops went out to try to replace all his kitchen stuff, and neither one of them knew anything about cooking but Pops is fuckin' rich, so they just bought all the most expensive shit they could find at some big chain store and when they brought it up to Alfred, he just looked at it and said, 'Oh, _dear, _someone doesn't know their brands, do they?' and Pops ended up having to call Wolfgang Puck for advice on what to buy him plus they had to totally renovate the kitchen while they sent him on a Michelin restaurant tour of Europe."

"Your kitchen _is_ much more modern than the rest of the Manor," Bane said with a tiny smile as he blinked away a few remaining tears.

"And now you know why," Jason said, nodding at him. "And even then Pops and Talia didn't break up. Shit, they made up while they were out shopping for Al's new knives. Which they had to throw out in the end because Alfred wouldn't even let them return them and subject some other poor unknowing victim to their shoddy quality."

"My," Bane said, looking a little more relieved. "So, you believe that I can work things out with your father, then?"

"Hell, yes," said Jason. "As long as you don't drag Alfred's kitchen into it."

"I will avoid that at all costs," Bane murmured, starting to feel a little better. He sighed. "I have never been in a romantic relationship before," he admitted slowly with a little embarrassment. "Zenmaster Bane, the calm and unflappable one, is feeling completely lost."

"You'll figure it out," Jason said. "I wasn't with anybody until Harley," he said. "I was a kid and then I was a zombie and then I was Red Hood so I wasn't doing much besides hooking up now and then when I got back to Gotham. Although, it's way easier for me to be in a relationship with Harley than it's gonna be for you with Bruce," he grinned. "She's good at shit like that and Pops kind of sucks," he laughed. "But, you know, at least you'll both suck at it together and have to figure it out together, right?"

"I suppose that is a good point," Bane said. "If your father is truly interested in a relationship with me, at all."

"He is," Jason said. "I could see it all over him."

"He has never been with a man, though?" Bane asked him hesitantly.

"No, I don't think so," Jason said. "But I can't see that stopping Pops if he loves you."

"Perhaps," Bane sighed. "One can hope."

"Yeah," Jason said, reaching over to pat his arm. "One can hope."

Back at Wayne Manor, Bruce was growling and pacing angrily in his study, and the stupidest part of it was that _tears _were starting to fall down his cheeks. Tears. He was _crying _over a fuckin' argument. That wasn't even his fault! He was totally in the right, for a change, and _he _was the one crying. What the hell, Bruce thought in frustration. What. The. Hell.

He sniffed as Bane's NFHF bracelet on his wrist caught his eye, and with a disgusted - but also despairing - grunt, he pulled it off and shoved it into his pants pocket. He sat down heavily on the edge of his couch and leaned his elbows forward on his knees, holding his head in his hands and wondering why the fuck he was losing his shit and feeling at the same time like his heart was hollowing out.

_I don't want this to destroy us,_ he suddenly thought to himself. Well, that was interesting. Bruce wasn't in the habit of being the bigger man, ever, or the first one to reconcile after a fight, but… maybe after they'd spent the week apart and both calmed down… maybe then he could try to work through this with Bane. _We're both too upset now to work it out, anyway,_ he thought, deciding that his plan to wait was a good one.

And in the meantime, he had to deal with Harley's fuckin' Suicide Squad, and Amanda Fuckin' Waller, and… Bruce frowned. He picked his cellphone up again and dialed a number.

"Bruce?" Dick's voice answered hesitantly.

"Hi, son," Bruce sighed.

"Um, hi," Dick said, sounding fairly surprised at both the term of endearment and the call itself.

"We need to talk," Bruce said. "Can you come over tonight?"

"Sure, ok," Dick said, slightly nervously. "Is everything ok?"

"In life in general? Sure," Bruce said. "Between us? Hell, no, and I'm tired of it. We need to work it out for once and for all. I don't want to keep fighting with you anymore."

"Oh!" Dick said, sounding fairly stunned and a little scared, too, if Bruce listened really carefully. "Um… Babs kind of said the same thing," he admitted a little sheepishly.

"Yeah, well, she's a smart woman," Bruce said with a sigh. "Bring her over with you, will you? I haven't seen her in awhile. She and Harley can hang out while you and me talk and then we can have coffee or dessert together and play a game with the kids."

"Um, ok," Dick said in confusion, wondering if he had fallen into an alternate universe. "Wait - Harley?" he said.

"Oh, yeah, she and Jason got married," Bruce said. "Me and Jason are working things out and Harley's staying here this week while he's out of town."

"Oh-kayyy," Dick said slowly.

"Oh, and I need to catch you up on some things about Batman and the patrols and all that. After we work things out between us tonight," Bruce said. "Just so you're in the loop."

"Ok," Dick said again, looking at the phone strangely. "Well, I guess… we'll see you tonight, then, Bruce," he said. "After dinner?"

"Sure," Bruce said. "See you then." He sighed to himself as Dick got off the phone with him, but a peaceful feeling starting to swell outwards from his chest. Tight coils of tension that he'd been holding onto for _years _felt like they were slowly unspooling and giving him space to breathe a little bit easier, and it was a pretty damn good feeling.

_Maybe I won't be a shit parent forever, after all, _Bruce thought to himself with a little bit of pride as he stood up to return to the BatCave, ready to team up with his daughter-in-law to blackmail Amanda Waller. _And maybe I won't be alone forever, either,_ he thought to himself, starting to get an inkling of an idea of why his fight with Bane had upset him so badly. He sighed again.

It wasn't the happiest feeling at the moment given what had just happened between them, but… _Maybe we can work it out,_ Bruce thought. And he actually believed it.


	17. Chapter 17

_**Chapter 17**_

"Hi, Arthur," Harley said into the phone, busy trying to get all of the pertinent release details worked out with her Suicide Squad members while Bruce was in the mansion making his angry phone call to Bane. She wanted to be ready to call Amanda Waller together with Bruce whenever the Bat stomped or sulked his way back down to the cave after what Harley feared would be a catastrophically bad fight with his new friend.

Bruce did not have a lot of people skills, which was why she had insisted that he only listen in on the phone call with Deadshot instead of speaking up and making his presence known. He would have ruined everything, Harley knew, if he started poking at Floyd with his trademark Bat snark, and Floyd could really be so sweet and cooperative when he wasn't being insulted. Look how easily he had agreed to let Harley be his assassination booking agent! Really, it was just a matter of knowing how to talk to people, Harley mused, and treating them with dignity instead of derision.

She was all too familiar with the sting of judgment and disgust that normal folks greeted her with - from the prison guards who _weren't _in her pocket to the constant mockery that she received on social media, which she sadly couldn't avoid noticing as she had to lurk online to keep tabs on her amends patients. And yeah, Harley had earned the insults and attitudes, that was true… but she wasn't the old mind-fucked Harley Quinn anymore, either, and she still had feelings. Which were easily hurt.

So Harley had seen the pain and longing in Floyd's eyes when he'd learned a few years ago that he was a father, and she knew how much it ate him up that he wasn't allowed visiting hours with his child, Deadshot being deemed too dangerous a threat to be permitted that one little link with uncorrupted humanity. His baby mama sent photos and letters regularly, though, which Floyd kept carefully assembled in a battered manila envelope in his cell, and Harley's heart broke a little bit every time that Floyd took them out to show her the latest picture of his baby girl, because, except for the latest missives, the stack of letters and photos were creased and worn from Floyd's constantly handling of them.

But Bruce _was_ doing a lot better at combatting his intolerance, Harley had to admit, even if she didn't trust him with Floyd. Letting Bane become Batman - well, that was huge. Considering what Bane had done to Bruce in the past. And reconciling with Jason - even if things weren't perfect yet, he was trying, and Bruce was trying to get to know her, too, and welcome her into the family even if he wouldn't have picked to have her in it. He was growing, Harley decided, but that didn't mean that he had arrived yet - and she was worrying in the back of her mind about what was going down between him and Bane even as Cluemaster picked up the phone.

"Harley," Arthur Brown answered warmly. "It's good to hear from you. Hasn't been the same on the Suicide Squad without you."

"I bet," Harley said sympathetically. "Are you all still working together good, though? Captain Cold's doing a good job running point?"

"Oh, yeah, yeah," Arthur said. "Him and Frosty even been keeping Boomerang on lockdown once we get to the drop sites since Waller won't let us ditch him for the missions. He's been pitching a fit about being left a sitting duck, but, hey, you leave your teammate to die, what do you expect?"

"Right?" Harley agreed. "That's good, I'm glad they're handling him ok. And you all are staying safe?" she asked.

"Eh, as safe as we can be," Arthur said wryly. "Given Waller's death-defying missions and lack of backup support for us. But we're getting by. You know us."

"I sure do," Harley said, a smile breaking out over her face as she twirled in her chair a little bit in front of the BatComputer. "So, I got some news, Arthur, and I need to know where you're at with a few things."

"Ok, Harls, what's up?" he said.

"I'm gonna get Waller to release the Suicide Squad," Harley said, "but I'm gonna let her keep hirin' us for pay with better backup and guns and stuff. But, I'm not a hundred percent sure you're ready to be out on the streets, Arth. I know how hard you've been workin' to get in control of your crime addiction and I don't want to mess that up for ya."

"Yeah…" Arthur said slowly, with disappointment in his voice. "I don't know, Harley," he said. "I hate to give up being on the Squad, though."

"Oh, you don't have to give the Squad up!" Harley said. "Sorry, honey, I failed to mention that. You can keep comin' on missions and you'd even get paid for 'em, too. But you can stay in Arkham in between 'em if you'd rather."

"Oh!" Arthur said, perking up and sounding pleased. "That would be great, Harley. I'd miss having the rest of the crew here, but if I can stay on the Squad _and _stay in Arkham…" he cut himself off and groaned a little bit. "Never thought I'd be asking to stay in jail, Harls," he sighed. Harley beamed to herself.

"Your daughter's gonna be so proud of you one day, Arthur. Really," she said.

"Well, I hope so," Arthur replied a little wistfully. "But nothing can change what a shitty father I was, or crappy husband, or how I fucked our family right up... "

"No," Harley said softly. "That's true. But it shows that you're tryin' now to be better. That's all any of us can do, Arth," Harley said, her voice echoing a little of Arthur's regret.

"Yeah," he said quietly. He cleared his throat. "Well, you take care of yourself out there, Harley, and tell the rest of the Squad I'll see them on our next mission."

"I'll do that," Harley said. "Take care of yourself, too, Arthur. Do you need some more books yet?"

"Yeah, another batch soon would be nice," he said. "I'm on the next to last one out of the last box you sent me."

"Ok, will do," Harley said. "Some more Agatha Christie? A lot of these newer mystery writers are crap but I'll try to find something decent out of the current bestseller list."

"Pick something with porn in it," Arthur chuckled. "That way the book won't be a total waste of paper if the plot sucks." Harley laughed, too.

"I'll do that," she said. "And I'll send more crosswords and word puzzles, too."

"Thanks, honey," Arthur said. "You're a good friend to look after us all so well."

"I do what I can," Harley smiled. "Bye, Arth. Be good."

"You too, Harls," he said as he hung up. Harley sighed in some relief as she ended her call with Arthur. She actually had known with one hundred percent certainty that Arthur wasn't ready to be released, but she had been hoping that he would make that decision for himself and she was both pleased and thankful that he had.

Because she still had her therapist ethics, even if no one except Jay believed that, and Harley would have forced Arthur to stay in Arkham for his own good if she'd had to, but she would have hated to impose that on him against his will. It was a telling sign of his therapeutic progress that he'd had the maturity to make that decision himself and Harley felt a good warmth in her chest.

Meeting his daughter Stephanie yesterday had made her care even more about Arthur's recovery, because she was invested now for Jay's adoptive sister's sake as well as for her friend's. It was nice when things worked out well, Harley thought happily to herself, before her anxiety spiked as she heard Bruce coming back down into the cave.

He looked tired, Harley thought assessingly, but not overly angry or despairing. Hm.

"How did your call with Bane go?" Harley asked him. Bruce sighed, but… Harley noticed that he seemed to be holding himself with a little more energy and alertness than he had been before he left. Interesting, she thought.

"We fought," Bruce said. "I yelled." He shrugged. "It was a fucked up thing for Bane to do, to try to hide it from me that he was off to kill someone. But we'll work it out when he gets back," he said in a mostly unbothered manner. "I think we could both use some time apart to cool off so it's not such a bad thing that he'll be gone all week."

"Ok," Harley said slowly, feeling some surprise. Because Bruce sounded a lot more in control and a little more like his old self. _Very _interesting, Harley thought, with some amusement beginning to quirk at the corner of her lips.

"Oh, I called Dick, too," Bruce said as he sat in his computer chair. "Him and Babs are going to come over after dinner. I'm going to hammer this shit with Dick out once and for all. It's got to end."

"Good!" Harley said, raising an eyebrow, genuinely surprised and intrigued now by the shift in Bruce's motivation. And courage, she thought to herself. He wasn't running and hiding anymore.

"Would you mind hanging out with Babs and getting to know her some while me and Dick talk?" Bruce asked her. "The kids can join in, if you want."

"Sure," Harley said, smiling. "It would be nice to get to know my sister-in-law." A snarky comment was on the tip of Bruce's tongue out of habit, but he suddenly bit it and stopped himself. Because Harley wasn't trying to annoy him, he realized, by rubbing the family connection in. She looked actually happy and excited and… well… dammit. That was a little touching and made him feel bad that he was about to crap on her parade. Well… fine. He could be nice. Or, at least, a non-asshole.

"Good," he managed to grunt out. "I thought we could have another game night after…?" he asked her. "The kids seemed to really like it and we haven't seen Dick and Babs for awhile." Harley's face lit up.

"That's fantastic, Bruce! You came up with the idea on your own!" she squealed, clapping her hands. "You're having a breakthrough!" she announced with glee.

"A breakthrough?" Bruce asked her suspiciously and a little grumpily, with a raised eyebrow to hide the little flare-up of pride that he felt inside at her words. Harley nodded enthusiastically.

"This is a therapist's dream moment," she sighed. "Not that I can take credit for it. Although, I _will _take credit for instituting game night, that was totally my idea first." She grinned. "But you are following up with it, that's really great," she said sincerely. "_And _you reached out to Dick on your own," she said with a big smile.

Bruce sighed and tried to hide the little smile tickling his lips and the faint flush on his cheeks.

"Don't we need to call Waller?" he grumbled. "Let's get that over with," he said, trying to recapture his Dark Knight persona, but he could tell that Harley wasn't fooled, even though she played along.

"Uh huh, sure," she said. "Waller. So let me talk first, but this time you can be the Bad Bat that you are, too, ok?" she told him. "Just back me up, whatever I say."

"Fine," Bruce said, and it came out perhaps not quite as reluctantly as he'd wanted it to appear. Because Harley grinned widely at him even as she dialed the number on her phone, which she set to speaker.

"Amanda Waller, who is this?" a sharp voice answered. "How did you get this number?"

"It's Harley," she said, and Bruce was surprised to hear a much sharper edge to her voice than he was accustomed to. She didn't sound like either her playful criminal self or her gentle therapist side, but she sounded… angry. And dangerous. He remembered her saying that Waller had been putting her team's lives at risk and it appeared that Harley took that pretty damn seriously.

"Harley _Quinn,_" Waller hissed. "What the hell do _you _want?"

"What I want," Harley said coldly, "is for you to release the Suicide Squad, minus Boomerang and Cluemaster, and to let go of blackmailing their families."

"And why would I do that?" Waller sneered at her.

"Because I want that, too," Batman growled. There was a pause on the line.

"_Batman?_" Waller said disbelievingly. "Why on earth are you working with Harley Quinn?" Bruce glanced at Harley to see who should answer.

"Because I gave him a _really _interesting file," Harley said. "All about what his precious warden Amanda Waller has been up to at Arkham Asylum."

"Very interesting choice of extra-curricular activities," Batman said sarcastically. "I'm sure the governor and the Gotham Daily would _love _an exclusive."

"Now, Batman," Waller began in a conciliatory tone, "you have to understand, this is government-sanctioned. I'm not doing anything wrong here -"

"You're doing a lot wrong," Harley snapped. "You're threatening innocent people's lives. You're forcing inmates into suicide missions with no backup or support and inadequate preparation and resources. And you're not paying them a damn cent!"

"This is about _money?_" Waller laughed. "I should have known," she mocked.

"It's about what's right," Batman growled at her. "And trust me, Waller, government-sanctioned or not, your shadow organization won't take kindly to you being so careless as to let Harley get an entire brief of evidence against you."

"And full documentation of _all _of our missions," Harley added helpfully. "I think some hostile world governments might not take so kindly, either, to a few of the things that we've been up to for you," she said calmly. Waller paused again, then sighed.

"What do you want," she grumbled.

"First of all, the blackmail threats are _over,_" Harley said sharply. "And I swear to God, Waller, you'd better pray to every deity you believe in that not _one _of the Squad's loved ones dies anytime in the foreseeable future, because no matter if it's a car accident or cancer, I'm gonna hold you responsible and Deadshot will deliver my sentence."

"Fine," Waller muttered. "No more threats."

"Next," Harley said, "you're gonna release Deadshot, Captain Cold, Killer Frost, and Killer Croc. Captain Boomerang is stayin' in prison, he's off the team. We _told _you he left Captain Cold out to dry in Nicaragua and you didn't give a shit."

"Boomerang's got good skills, so sue me," Waller snarked. "He has a lot more value to the team than Captain Cold. He made the right call."

"It's my call, now," Harley said with venom. "And Boomerang is off and stays in Arkham. Cluemaster is gonna stay on the Squad but he's also stayin' in Arkham, he ain't ready to be released and he wants to continue his treatment on the inside. But you better be treatin' him right, and he's gonna get the same pay and benefits as all the rest of us," Harley said.

"Oh, yes, back to the pay and _benefits,_" Waller sneered. "By all means, continue." Harley didn't even bat an eyelash at her tone.

"We'll all be gettin' paid from now on," Harley said. "At _my _set rate per person. With health insurance. Retirement plans. Hazard pay. Oh - and full pardons," Harley said. Bruce raised an eyebrow at her. Harley winked and shrugged.

"You've _got _to be kidding," Waller said, sounding completely amused. "I can get you the pay and benefits. But pardons?" she laughed.

"Presidential pardons," Harley doubled down. "You say you're government sanctioned? You'll get it done. Or is the great Amanda Waller not so powerful as she thinks she is?" Harley asked slyly.

"I'll see what I can do," Waller muttered after a minute of silence. "It won't be easy, you know," she complained.

"What the fuck do I care?" said Harley. "That's your problem. You and the government been usin' us for free with no regard to our lives. Now you all are gonna take care of us. Or we're done and trust me when I tell you, that you won't be able to run a second squad because me _and _the Bat are onto you now, and we won't allow it. You like havin' a private merc army of villains? You'll give me what I want."

"You are a vicious and ugly woman," Waller growled at her.

"Why, thank ya," Harley said cheerfully. "They say it takes one to know one," she winked at Bruce, who grinned a little bit back at her.

"And from now on," Harley said, "I do the tactical prep for the missions and we get fully stocked with weapons and back-up and extraction teams and air support or we don't do shit for you. And that's final," she said.

"Very well, Harley Quinn," Waller sighed with agonizingly dry sarcasm. "Anything else you'd like? My head, on a platter?"

"Lady, Deadshot woulda got that for me in a heartbeat years ago if I'd said the word," Harley told her. "You don't gotta offer up what I can take for free." A growl came from the other end of the line and Harley smirked.

"There is one thing you can do for me, though," Harley said suddenly. "Stop callin' me Harley fuckin' Quinn. My name is Harley Hood." Bruce looked at her.

"Harley _Hood?_" Waller said. "What, like Red Hood?" she laughed in disbelief.

"Exactly like that," Harley said coolly. "I married him."

"Oh, I can't _wait _to see the Joker's reaction to that," Waller said with gleeful spite.

"Mistah J ain't been reactin' to nothin' since I killed him seven years ago," Harley said flatly and Waller actually gave a small gasp. "You think he's the Big Bad you've been dealin' with all these years?" Harley said with vicious triumph. "The Clown Prince was no match for Gotham's Queen, Warden Waller. And don't you forget that," Harley said with malice. "Because I can take you out as easy as I took him."

"And Batman is just fine with all this?" Waller asked sullenly.

"Batman has no problem with presidentially pardoned citizens who are doing private contractor work in patriotic duty to their government," Bruce said icily. "He does, however, have a problem with wardens who are abusing their inmates. You'd do well to remember that… _Warden_ Waller," he growled at her. She huffed but stayed silent.

"I need the pardons in writing, tonight," Harley said to her. "And signed contracts by you and all of your little spooks who are financin' these operations, I'll fax them to you. Back pay for all past missions -" Waller squawked at that but Harley kept going - "in our Cayman Islands accounts, tonight. Enrollment forms for full health coverage and 401K's in my inbox by noon tomorrow. And as soon as I have the pardons and contracts and back pay from you, you're releasin' the Squad members I told you to, with _all _their personal effects," she said. "Weapons included. You have until nine PM tonight to get it all done."

"Or else what," Waller had the nerve to mutter.

"Or else Deadshot's gonna be bringin' me somebody's head on a platter," Harley said with an evil smile that only Bruce could see. "Chop chop, Warden. Time's a tickin'," Harley said before hanging up on her.

Harley stretched her arms out over her head and smiled with glee as Bruce just stared at her with what was possibly a little bit of awe. Or fear. Or both.

"That went good," Harley said to him cheerfully.

"I'm glad I'm not your enemy anymore," Bruce said to her completely seriously.

"You should be," Harley nodded. "I'm a very dangerous woman."

"No shit," Bruce muttered. "Why didn't you have Deadshot kill me during all those years when you wanted me dead so bad?" he asked her. "I wouldn't be here right now if you'd done that," he said.

"Eh, it was personal," Harley said. "I wanted to do it myself. Wouldn't have been as satisfying otherwise."

"Well, thank God you're a slightly worse assassin than you are super-villain," Bruce said, shaking his head at her in wonder. "How much of this town do you run, Harley?" he asked her suspiciously. Harley smiled at him and cracked her gum.

"Now that I'm in the BatFamily?" she asked him. "I'd say all of it."


	18. Chapter 18

_**Chapter 18**_

Bruce decided that he was looking forward to the day when none of his kids would walk into Wayne Manor looking like they were facing an execution. Because if Bruce thought that Jason had been tense when he showed up yesterday with Harley, that was nothing compared to Dick, who looked like one strong word from Bruce would blow him away as he stood on the stoop with Babs.

Barbara, thank God, looked much more composed. Bruce supposed it was partly due to her more placid nature and partly because her life was undoubtedly about to get significantly better if her basically-a-husband and his father could manage to figure out how to stop sniping with each other on a regular basis. Barbara did have to get through the rabbit-hole of meeting Harley tonight, that was true, but Bruce thought that Babs looked more curious as to what the evening would hold rather than anxious, and she was a welcome still pond of unflappable emotions in the midst of Dick's swirling undercurrents of unease.

"Come on in," Bruce said to his son and daughter-in-law, reaching out to pull Babs into a hug as soon as she walked in the door. "It's good to see you," he said to her warmly as he unhesitatingly squeezed her tight. "It's been too long."

"Yeah, it has," she said, leaning in to hug him a little tighter, too, and feeling a lump start to grow in her throat. Because Bruce was the only parent who Barbara had left and until he hugged her, she hadn't realized quite how big the void in her heart had grown from not making time to see him.

Barbara's dad, Jim Gordon, had died almost two years ago after a short but intense battle with prostate cancer and the grief of losing him had practically swallowed Barbara alive. Dick and Bruce had been her rocks back then, even rallying themselves to avoid stupid fights with each other for the longest extended period of peace that they'd had in the last decade as they supported her, first through her mourning and then in her bid to become the next Police Commissioner.

Barbara was young for the job, only twenty-seven when she ran for office, but her record was more than impressive. She had hung up the Batgirl cowl after graduating the Police Academy with Dick, feeling a more passionate calling to the force and to follow in her father's footsteps than to continue with vigilante work once she grew up. But she took her secret past into the Gotham Police Force with a passion, suggesting new training methods and gear to better equip officers to deal with the spectacular level of villains that haunted their dreary, crime-riddled town.

And her hard work and persistence had paid off. Within her first five years on the force under her father as Commissioner, officer mortalities were down, combat skills were up, new tech was being regularly reviewed and incorporated into use, and Barbara had accumulated an impressive personal arrest record of rogues.

So when Gotham's much-beloved Jim Gordon passed a few years later, Barbara's name wasn't being tossed around in consideration for the Commissioner's post out of nepotism, but out of hard-earned respect from her peers backed up by the solid statistics of her innovative successes.

She'd still had to campaign hard for the post - being a woman as well as being so young meant that she'd had to fight twice as hard against her older, more experienced male opponent, who had also had the advantage of being appointed the interim Commissioner immediately after her father's death - but with Bruce Wayne's generous fundraising efforts and campaigning, Barbara had been elected.

In her first eighteen months in office, she'd been steadily proving to her detractors and to the public that she had what it took to be the Commissioner, but her new job kept her far busier than being an officer had been. Not to mention how hard it was to squeeze time in with Dick, who was on Bludhaven's police force as well as being Nightwing. When she added Dick and Bruce's recurrent spirals of drama and Dick's penchant for avoiding conflict on top of that, it had been hard to find time to see Bruce lately.

And she'd missed him, Babs realized. A lot. She looked up at him with a slightly teary smile as she pulled away from their hug.

"Let's not go so long without seeing each other again," she said to him, and he rubbed her arms as he let her go.

"Agreed," he said with a misty smile. Dick sighed to himself. Bruce got along so easily with Babs. He always had, even when she was Batgirl and he was Robin. Not that he was jealous of Babs. She wasn't Bruce's own kid, after all, and that undoubtedly reduced their potential for conflicts. But still… Dick wished that he could have that easy relationship with Bruce, too.

He gulped as he thought about what they had to discuss tonight and wondered again if he'd be able to get the words out. Babs had encouraged him all evening over dinner at her apartment and even helped him practice what to say, but Dick's upset stomach was making him want to run back to Bludhaven. Or, at the very least, to the nearest toilet for the rest of the night. Bruce was talking to him, though.

"Dick," Bruce said. "Come on in, son, and shut the door," he said. Dick jumped a little bit out of his trance, because he hadn't even realized that he'd stopped in the doorway watching Barbara and Bruce hug without actually crossing the threshold himself.

"Sorry," he muttered, quickly entering the foyer and shutting the door behind him.

Bruce wasn't glowering at him, though, and even more shocking was the fact that Bruce was advancing on him and pulling him into a bear hug. An actual, tight, embrace. Which was not at all what Dick would have expected from Bruce even on his father's very best day ever, let alone on today of all days, after the way that their blowout fight over Jason had ended the last time that they saw each other.

"Let's go work this out," Bruce said as he stepped back, cuffing Dick's cheek affectionately and meeting his eyes warmly without any hesitation.

"Ok," Dick managed to get out, casting a nervous glance at Babs, not sure suddenly if he was more anxious over what he had to say to Bruce or over Bruce's apparent lobotomy. Babs just smiled at him and Bruce amiably, though, as if everything was great.

"Harley and the kids are in the kitchen," Bruce said to her as if that was completely normal. "With Alfred. He's teaching them cake decorating skills tonight."

"Oh!" Barbara said with interest. "That sounds fabulous. And we get to eat their hard work after?" she asked with a grin and Bruce nodded.

"I'll head down there to join them," Barbara said. "You boys have fun…" she called mischievously over her shoulder as she sauntered into the depths of the mansion.

"I thought we'd talk in my study?" Bruce asked Dick, who nodded in response and would have followed Bruce there, trailing after him like a scolded puppy dog, but Bruce slowed his steps and matched Dick's gait so that they were walking shoulder to shoulder.

"How's work been going?" Bruce asked him congenially as they made their way through the hallways.

"Um, it's fine," Dick managed to get out. "We just busted up a drug trafficking ring in Bludhaven that we've been after for about six months, so that was a pretty big deal. Not that another one won't crop up tomorrow," he sighed and Bruce growled sympathetically.

"It never stops, does it?" he said with some bitterness and his son shook his head.

"And yet we continue," Dick muttered. Bruce cast a slightly guilty glance Dick's way but didn't say anything to that. He figured, upon consideration, that it was better to deal with their personal issues first before springing the 'Bane as Batman' shocker onto Dick. Because, hell, he'd like to at least have a chance of making up with Dick and leading their conversation with Bane did not seem conducive to meeting that goal.

"You want anything to drink?" Bruce asked him as Dick settled into the well-worn brown leather sofa in the study. Bruce and Alfred maintained a charmingly old-fashioned liquor cabinet in the room despite the fact that Bruce, as far as Dick knew, rarely drank. It had been Bruce's father's, though, from the heyday of highballs and it was as much a fixture of Bruce's study as his marble chess set or his bronzed bust of Shakespeare.

"No thanks," Dick said, even though a drink would probably have calmed his nerves some. But it could also loosen his tongue too much and after their last in-person fiasco, Dick wanted all of his self-control at his disposal.

"So," Bruce said, as he sat across from Dick in the sofa's matching leather armchair and leaned forward on his arms with an intently probing yet open look in his eyes, "tell me why we really fight so much."

And there it was. The Question of All Questions. About the secret hurt that Dick had buried for so, so long and Bruce had put it directly out there in front of them, expecting an answer. The real answer. Dick felt his cheeks start to burn with embarrassment before he even got his mouth open and he tried to will the tears to stay in his eyes.

"Um," he began, hesitating. "It's… it's stupid, really," he muttered. "It's not even that big a deal. It shouldn't be, I mean. I don't know why it bothers me so much. It shouldn't," he said, blinking furiously at the tears. _Stay_, he begged them, wishing that he could sink through the floor to hide in the depths of the Batcave rather than say this out loud.

"It's clearly not stupid," Bruce said gently, "if it's been upsetting you this much, for so long. You can tell me, son," he said. "I want to know. Hell, I need to know," he said, sighing. "You matter too much to me for us to keep being at each other's throats like we always are." Dick's head jerked up a little bit.

"Really?" he said softly, doubt lining his face.

"Dick," Bruce said in surprise, a wave of guilt immediately washing over him, reminding him of how he'd felt when Damian, too, had questioned if Bruce actually loved him the first time he'd said it.

"Yes, you matter," Bruce said to Dick insistently. "Although I'm well aware that I'm a shit father most of the time and probably don't show how much I care," he said with regret. "And I'm sorry for that," he added, holding Dick's eyes steadily with his own for a moment before looking down at the floor.

"I'm trying to do better, now," Bruce said with determination when he raised his head back up. "And I love you," he said quietly, but with no hesitation.

Dick sniffed and felt the tears starting to win the battle of wills. He brushed them away with the back of his hand and took a few steadying breaths before trying to speak.

"It's - it's a couple of things," he said slowly. Bruce nodded and waited for him to go on.

"You fired me from being Robin," Dick said, and he couldn't keep the hurt out of his voice. When Bruce didn't say anything at first, but seemed to be waiting for more, Dick kept talking.

"That was our thing, Bruce," he said to him. "You gave me Robin. To avenge my family. And it was _ours_, what we did together," he said with frustration, wiping his eyes some more. "And then you fired me," he ended brokenly. "Why would you do that? It was like you adopted Jason and didn't want me anymore," he said and Bruce inhaled sharply.

"Shit," he muttered. "I didn't think about it like that," he said. "Jason had nothing to do with firing you, son, but… shit," he muttered again. "When you put it like that," he groaned. "God, I am such a fuck up," Bruce said under his breath to himself.

"So why did you fire me then?" Dick challenged him. Bruce looked at him with troubled eyes.

"We were fighting too much as you grew up and ended high school. You wanted to take charge, do things your way - and that was good," he said, suddenly arresting the knife of hurt that had started to twist in Dick's heart.

"I felt like I needed to push you out of the nest," Bruce said slowly. "So you could spread your wings." Dick's jaw dropped open. Because really, never once in all of his angry ruminations had he ever considered that Bruce was trying to help him grow up by firing him.

"I didn't want you to feel tied to me and to Gotham and to the family business out of obligation, so to speak," Bruce said, frustration at his own poor communication skills now mixing with his regret. "I thought you needed the freedom to see if being a vigilante was really the life you wanted as an adult. And to learn your own style, your own way of doing things if it was. To make your own allies and figure out your own path just like I did."

Dick was starting to breathe more heavily as Bruce looked at him consideringly.

"I thought you becoming Nightwing was a good thing. And what you wanted," he said to him. "I was proud of you," he added more quietly. "You came into your own, Dick."

Dick sniffed harder and wiped his nose on his sleeve before rubbing his eyes as he bit back sobs because throughout the course of his entire life with Bruce, he had never once heard his adoptive father say that he was proud of him. He couldn't believe how good it felt to not only finally hear the words but to feel the full weight of the truth behind them when Bruce spoke.

"But - Jason," Dick said as he struggled to maintain his composure, unable to let that part go.

"I would have fired you with or without Jason," Bruce said. "It was time. You needed to fly free, little Robin," he said with a tender parental smile that had a hint of wistfulness in it.

"But you made Jason into Robin!" Dick said in a spasm of hurt. Bruce looked at him oddly, not seeming to understand.

"That bothered you?" he asked Dick in confusion. "Aside from thinking that he was the reason I fired you?"

"Yes!" Dick shouted at him, beginning to lose control as pain wracked his chest. "Yes, it bothered me! Robin was _my_ name. It was my mom's name for me," he got out and then the sobs really started to control him as the hollowness in his heart where his family should have been and the overwhelming grief that could still catch him off-guard any day of the week and the longing for his mom that never, ever went away and the pent-up years of hurt at having her pet name for him stolen rose to the surface and slashed his soul with shredding agony.

"Oh, Dick," Bruce said regretfully, tears starting to fill his own eyes. "Dick," he said again, getting up to sit next to Dick on the couch and pulling him into his arms. Dick didn't even fight him but just kept crying while Bruce held him and rubbed his head. And embarrassed as Dick was, he couldn't deny that it felt really nice to have Bruce take care of him like he was a little kid again, but he still tried to stop the flow of tears as soon as he could. Even though, despite his best efforts, it was several minutes before his sobbing stopped.

"You had already become Nightwing by the time I made Jason into Robin," Bruce said as Dick quieted down. "I thought you didn't want to use the name anymore," he said.

"You fired me," Dick protested.

"Well, you could have asked me if you still wanted to use the name," Bruce said. "But… I guess I see your point," he said. He paused. "Actually, I think I did want you to give the name up," Bruce said. "In retrospect. I didn't want it to hold you back. But I get that I wasn't the easiest person to talk to back then," Bruce sighed.

"You're still not," Dick muttered, causing Bruce to chuckle.

"I know," he said. "I'm working on it." Dick wiped his eyes as he sat up, pulling himself out of Bruce's arms.

"I remembered that it was your mom's name for you," Bruce said, causing Dick to still and meet his eyes in questioning wonder. "I gave it to Jason to honor you and your mom. So there would always be a Robin flying in Gotham. I didn't like the idea of the Flying Graysons disappearing forever," Bruce said somberly. Dick opened his mouth, but nothing came out.

"I should have told you," Bruce said. "Or asked you," he corrected with a little grimace. "Definitely asked," he said and Dick managed a little half-smile.

"I wish I'd known," he said miserably. "Or asked you sooner." Bruce grunted.

"I knew things weren't right with us after you left home but I thought it was growing pains at first," he said. "And then Jason died…" he said, swallowing hard. "And Talia, and Bane, and my back, and…I lost myself. And I let you go. I shouldn't have," Bruce said with enormous guilt.

"It's my fault, too," Dick surprised him by saying. "I run from conflict. So Babs says," he said with a mirthless laugh. "But she's right. I run from her, I run from you… I stuff it all inside and avoid the hell out of whatever's bothering me."

"How's that working out for you?" Bruce asked him with a wry grin.

"Not well," Dick said. He rubbed his hair back with his hands. "Babs said it's why she won't marry me," he said and he looked so sad that Bruce couldn't help reaching out again to hug his shoulders.

"She will," he said. "You're young. You can change."

"Maybe," Dick muttered.

"If I can change, you can definitely change," Bruce pointed out, and Dick had to smile at that.

"You _are_ the most stubborn man on the planet," he said to Bruce, getting a small smirk back. "I guess I can't be a worse case than you."

"There you go," Bruce said with an encouraging thump to his back. He hesitated for a second. "What about your other problems with Jason, though? Everything else you said last time. None of your feelings were news to me, Dick," Bruce said more seriously.

"Yeah, I know," Dick said. "I guess I always felt like my childhood was just as bad as Jason's, so why should he act like he had it worse?"

"He did have it worse," Bruce pointed out grimly.

"I know," Dick said apologetically. "Babs kind of reamed me out about that recently. Hell, Bruce, I was still a teenager when you adopted him and I felt like my family being murdered was the worst thing any kid could go through. And Jason hadn't been through that so I judged him. I was too young and arrogant to get how much rougher his life was from mine and how that shaped him."

"And too stubborn to see it later?" Bruce teased him, poking his side. "Now who on earth could you possibly have gotten that trait from?"

"Yeah, yeah," Dick said, looking a little embarrassed. "So I'm slow to mature. Clearly I'm not the only one, old man," he said.

"Not denying it," Bruce smiled. "Runs in the family." Dick heaved out a huge breath, feeling like the old, tired weight of resentments that he'd been carrying around for years was finally loosing its hold on him.

"So you and me, we're gonna be ok from now on?" he asked Bruce with a little hopeful flicker in his eyes.

"Always," Bruce said, leaning over to kiss the side of his head. "We'll talk about it sooner the next time something comes up. Yes?" he said to Dick. "Because I'm sure we'll find more things to fight about."

"Yeah," Dick said, smiling a little bit. "I'm sure that's inevitable, seeing as how you're the most stubborn man in the universe." Bruce cuffed the back of his head lightly but with a playful smirk.

"And," Dick went on, "I won't hold it in and run away next time. But I don't think we'll be fighting over _this _stuff anymore, anyway," he said with relief.

"Exactly," Bruce said, looking equally relieved to have finally banished the ghosts of past hurts.

"But I need you to work things out with Jason, too," Bruce said with a more serious look to Dick. "He's out of town right now but when he gets back."

"Yeah, explain what the hell is going on to me, please," Dick said, looking utterly mystified. "He married Harley Quinn? And she's here now at the mansion with you?"

"Yes," Bruce groaned dramatically, but he couldn't keep a little affectionate smile off of his face when he thought of his new daughter Harley.

"She's saner than she used to be," he said. "And she and Jason make a really good couple," he said. "And, well, she's also apparently the grand puppet master presiding over Gotham from the shadows and I'm really fuckin' glad she's on our side now," he said. Dick looked at him.

"For real?" he said doubtfully.

"For real," Bruce said. "She killed the Joker," he said and Dick's eyes popped out of his head. "Seven years ago," Bruce added. "Right after he killed Jason. And Dick, she can get anything and anybody she wants out of Arkham. She had a blackmail file six inches thick on Amanda Waller, who's been running an illegal merc squad, by the way. She got Deadshot to agree not to shoot anybody without her permission."

"Wait, what?" Dick said. "Deadshot? Why would he need her permission? He's in Arkham."

Bruce made an uneasy grunt. "Don't lose your shit, ok?" he muttered. "We just made up. So seriously, don't lose your shit when I tell you this."

"What?" Dick asked very suspiciously.

"Look," Bruce said heavily, "Let me start at the beginning. Bane is sober now and I'm letting him take over temporarily as Batman. He's been doing it for a week already."

"What?" Dick exploded.

"Shit," Bruce reminded him. "Don't lose it." Dick began to take deep breaths in and out.

"And, as it happens," Bruce went on, slowly picking up more speed, "Bane and Jason went out of town for a week and Harley is staying here while they're gone. And since I've had a nervous breakdown, according to Damian, and am unfit to patrol, according to everyone, and since you and I have been fighting, Harley said she'd patrol this week. As Batgirl," he added, as if that made it better. Dick's breaths were coming faster but he had his mouth clamped shut, apparently making a huge effort to keep it together.

"But Harley can't patrol without backup," Bruce went on. "Well, she could, but Jason would kill me and him and me are just starting to work things out so she needs backup. And Harley won't take Tim out because he's underage. Or Steph, for that reason, but Bane broke Steph's ankle so she can't go out for awhile anyway." Dick's face was starting to turn red with the effort of not interjecting and he was biting down on his lip hard, so he clamped a hand over his mouth. Bruce gently patted his shoulder.

"It gets worse," he said encouragingly. "Harley's idea for backup is her Suicide Squad, that's the Arkham prisoners that Waller's been blackmailing. So, the two of us - me and Harley - blackmailed Waller this afternoon into letting the Squad out. Which includes Deadshot." A high-pitched whine escaped from behind Dick's tightly closed and covered mouth.

"Also Captain Cold, Killer Croc, and Killer Frost." Dick's eyes bugged out at the last name. "And Cluemaster," Bruce relentlessly went on, "but he's staying in Arkham for treatment in between Suicide Squad gigs. Which they'll still be taking under Harley's management, but for pay from now on." Dick stared at him, his eyes silently pleading with Bruce to be done.

"Oh!" Bruce said, remembering. "So, Deadshot. Harley's his pimp now and booking his personal assassination contracts for 12.5% of his fees. But she has total control over his targets," Bruce finished casually as if that made everything just fine. He fell silent for a minute and appeared to be done with his report so Dick slowly, cautiously removed his hand from his mouth and took a few experimental breaths before trying to speak.

"Bruce…" Dick said very, very carefully.

"Oh, and Harley and the whole Squad are getting presidential pardons," Bruce suddenly added. "And that's all," he said. Dick stared at him.

"No, wait, not all," Bruce said. "I think I'm in love with Bane."

"Give me that damn drink," Dick said.


	19. Chapter 19

Chapter 19

"Press and lift straight up with the tip; very good, Master Damian," Barbara heard Alfred saying as she approached the Wayne Manor kitchen while Dick went off to hash things out with Bruce. "Not at an angle, Master Timothy, the tip must be perpendicular to the cake surface. Ah, Miss Stephanie, even pressure on the bag, we want a line, not a blob…"

Barbara raised her eyebrows in amusement as she walked into the warmly lit room. The three Batlings were sitting on stools around the island counter with a small cake in front of each of them that they were attempting to decorate under Alfred's meticulous eye. And across from them, sitting at the kitchen table with her laptop open and a cup of tea next to her, was none other than Harley Quinn.

"Ah, Miss Barbara!" Alfred said in pleasure, dusting his hands on his apron as the Police Commissioner entered the room. "It has been too long, my dear. Come here and give this old man a peck on the cheek," he said, moving to hug her.

Barbara smiled back at him and hugged him as tightly as she had hugged Bruce, even going so far as to bury her face in his shoulder for a minute while he patted her back. She breathed in the familiar smell of cake and bergamot and lemons that was Alfred and wistfully imagined herself a teenager again, with her father working late up at the police station and Dick doing homework at the table and Bruce smiling as he flirted with Talia while Alfred fussed over them all like a mother hen. She sighed.

"I've missed you," Babs said as she lifted her head and brushed her lips over Alfred's wrinkled cheek.

"Then you should make time to stop by more often," Alfred said, patting her shoulder as he let her go. "Even police commissioners need to eat," he said with a bemused smile. "And I would gladly make your favorite ravioli if I knew you were coming," he enticed her. Babs grinned as her eyes lit up.

"You may have just made your case, Alfred," she said with a little laugh, shaking her head. "And, I think it will be a little bit easier, now, for us both to come over," she said more quietly with a meaningful look, to which he nodded with equal satisfaction evident on his face.

"May I get you some tea, Miss Barbara? Or coffee?" he asked her.

"Decaf coffee would be great, Alfred. Thank you," she responded. "How are you kids doing?" Babs asked, moving to the island to hug everyone's shoulders and give more cheek kisses, although Damian halted her with a ferocious glare as he finished his perfectly formed leaf pattern before allowing her to touch him.

"We're good," Tim said as Steph mumbled "Fine," with her eyes slightly downcast.

"I am very well," Damian said crisply as he continued to concentrate on his work. As Barbara looked over the three cakes, she saw that Damian's was, well, extraordinary. Every leaf was precisely rippled and cleanly cut away. Every line was exactly the same width and perfectly contoured. Each rosette was a clone of the one next to it.

"Damian, this is amazing," Barbara said with some awe in her voice. "How long have you been practicing this?" she asked him, noticing that Tim's cake was fairly good, but nowhere near perfect, and that Steph's was rather a mess. Damian paused after he finished his next leaf and glanced at the clock.

"Forty-two minutes," he said, returning his gaze to his work.

"Total?" Barbara said in disbelief. Alfred gave a small but proud smile as he ground the coffee beans and set the kettle to boil.

"Tonight was the first instructional lesson in cake decorating skills," he said. Steph sighed a little bit as she struggled with another line that ended up with a huge splotch in the middle of it.

"I hate this," she muttered softly and Barbara's eyes softened sympathetically. Steph seemed pretty miserable tonight instead of her usually upbeat self, but Alfred didn't seem to be paying her bad mood any mind.

"And may I introduce Missus Harley Todd," Alfred said politely when he finished starting the coffee, turning Barbara's attention to the brunette at the kitchen table who was watching the Police Commissioner curiously, but not with malice.

"Hi, Harley," Barbara said, walking over to her and sticking her hand out for a shake. "It's good to meet you. Officially," she said. Harley gave a small smile as she shook Barbara's hand.

"You, too, Commish," she said. "Or should I call you Barbara now?" she asked, raising an amused eyebrow.

"Babs is fine," the Commissioner surprised her by saying as she took a seat next to Harley at the table. "Only Bruce and Alfred really ever call me Barbara. And my dad did," she added softly, her eyes misting up a little bit.

"I'm really sorry your pops died," Harley said to her with empathy. "We all liked him a lot. He was fair and didn't go out of his way to hurt nobody." Babs nodded her thanks, oddly touched at the villain's kind tribute on behalf of Gotham's rogues.

"So…" Babs said to her slowly, meeting Harley's eyes questioningly. "You married Jason."

"Yep," Harley said with a big smile as her eyes lit up at the thought of her husband. "He's the best, Babs," she said with heartfelt warmth, not hesitating to use her sister-in-law's preferred moniker.

"He used to be," Babs said hesitantly. "I haven't seen him since we were kids," she added by way of explanation, not wanting Harley to take offense.

"I know," Harley said, though, giving her a thoughtful look. "Kind of odd the Police Commissioner never even had a conversation with Red Hood before letting the Bat throw him into Arkham," she said, and even with the absence of snark, Barbara flushed red.

"I thought it was for the best," she mumbled, getting a little snort from Harley.

"For who? You or for him?" Harley said, although she used a gentler tone than she could have, and Babs knew it. She sighed as she worried her lip.

"For me, I guess," she finally said honestly, looking ashamed. "I didn't want to look into Jason's face and see a stranger staring back out," she admitted. "It would have hurt too much."

"But he wasn't a stranger," Harley pointed out. "He was still Jason." And Babs groaned, rubbing her face with her hands.

"I didn't know," she said. "And yes, I would have known if I'd talked to him. I get it. But he hadn't come to see us when he got back to Gotham, Harley. If he'd come back from the dead and was still himself, he should have come to see us. We thought," she added quickly.

"I understand now that more was going on than we knew. But surely you can understand how hard it would have been for me to see him if he was nothing more than a Jason-shell." Harley pursed her lips up.

"Well, I'm not the one you need absolution from," she said, meeting Barbara's guilty eyes. "You gotta talk that out with Jay."

"I will," Barbara said immediately. "When he gets back. Bruce said he was out of town?"

"Yeah, for about a week," Harley said, wisely not elaborating.

"Did Bruce tell you yet about Bane?" Tim chimed in from the counter as he continued to work on his cake.

"No," Barbara said, surprised. "What about Bane?"

"He's Batman, now," Tim said calmly. Barbara's eyebrows shot up.

"For good?" she asked in shock. Tim nodded.

"Until I'm old enough to take it on," he said. "Bruce can't do it anymore."

"Father had a nervous breakdown," Damian supplied in his unbothered manner. "He is most unwell."

"He's getting a little better," Steph protested. "But not well enough to patrol. He's going to work behind the scenes from now on."

"Oh," Barbara said, her eyes kind of wide. "Ok," she said slowly.

"Oh, that reminds me," Harley said. "I'm gonna be doin' the patrols this week. As Batgirl, though. And the Suicide Squad is gonna be backin' me up. Check your email, I just sent you all the presidential pardons."

"The what now?" Babs said, swiveling her head to stare at Harley as she pulled her phone out of her pocket.

"It's all in the emails," Harley said peacefully, taking a sip of her tea. "You'll see."

Barbara's jaw started to drop as she read the summary and documents that Harley had sent her.

"Holy shit," she whispered.

"Yeah, you kind of let Amanda Waller pull a fast one over on ya," Harley said conversationally and without judgment. "It's fine now, though. Me and Bruce clipped her wings."

"Wow," Barbara said, blinking as she kept scanning the evidence. "Wow. I feel really stupid," she mumbled.

"Aw, no, Babs, don't worry about it," Harley said kindly. "Even Bats didn't know. I was on top of it, anyhow, you didn't have to worry none."

"So, is your Squad going to mask up as Robin and Bats? Or what?" Barbara asked Harley, wrinkling her forehead. "It's not good PR for the Squad to suddenly be on the lam working with Batgirl as her enforcers if no one knows what's going on."

"Oh, we got that covered," Harley said.

"I'm going to hack the Gotham Square jumbotron tonight," Tim said. "And the Emergency Broadcast channels. Batgirl will explain the situation to everyone so there's no confusion. I was going to post the pardons on the Gotham PD website, too," he said, "but since you're here now and you have them, I guess you could do that yourself if you wanted."

Babs stared at Tim. Then at Harley. Steph gave her a tiny smile as Damian ignored her and continued his intent work on his cake. Alfred poured the now boiling water into the French press and walked it over to Barbara with a mug.

"Cream, no sugar?" he asked her with a knowing smile and she nodded back at him, mouthing a quiet thank you.

"I know I've been out of the mask game for awhile now," Babs said slowly. "But… isn't this a little much? Bruce is ok with all this?" she asked skeptically.

"He's fine with it," Tim said confidently. "Harley knows what she's doing." Harley beamed.

"Well, thank ya for the compliment, young Robin," she said, "but if you really believed that, you and Steph would be hangin' the masks up for a few years until you were grown." And Tim actually laughed without taking offense.

"Too bad it's not up to you," he teased her and Harley grinned.

"It is for this week, anyway," she quipped back, but she cast a worried look at Steph, who wasn't taking part in the repartee and was messing around with her cake ever more lethargically.

"Steph, you can be done with that now. Come over and sit with us girls," Harley ordered her, glancing at Babs who nodded slightly back at her with equal concern as she met her sister-in-law's eyes.

Steph sighed and got up from her stool, taking her crutches from where they were leaning against the counter and slowly swinging her way over to the table.

"You want some tea or somethin'?" Harley asked her, but Steph shook her head as she slumped in her chair.

"What's going on, chickie?" Babs asked her quietly, reaching out to rub the younger girl's arm. "This isn't about cake." Steph shrugged, looking down at the table, but didn't answer. Babs looked over at Tim, who met her eyes deliberately for a second before looking back at his cake and remaining silent.

"Is somethin' goin' on at school?" Harley asked her, frowning. "I know that look."

"How do you know this look?" Steph muttered.

"Because I used to wear it all the time in high school," Harley said. "Lord, those were some awful years," she sighed. "Come on, out with it, Steph. Who are the bitches and what have they done now?" Steph lifted her head up a little bit and met Harley's eyes with some surprised gratitude mingled with a hint of relief.

"Some of the girls tease me a lot," she sighed softly, keeping her voice low so Damian and Tim wouldn't hear. "I try not to let it bother me, but…" Barbara was frowning hard.

"I didn't know that was going on," she said. "How long has that been happening, Steph?" Steph shrugged.

"For as long as I've been going to Gotham Prep," Steph said matter-of-factly. Harley snorted.

"Why am I not surprised," she muttered. "There ain't no bitch like a rich bitch, Steph," Harley said with deep feeling and a small smile crept onto Steph's face.

"Yeah," she said, dipping her head a little bit. "That's what it started as, bullying me for being poor and for coming to live with Bruce like some street tramp."

"God," Barbara said in horror, but Harley was nodding her head, unsurprised.

"They did that to Jay, too," she said. "Dick didn't get all that?" she asked Babs. Barbara gave her a wry look.

"Have you met Dick?" she asked Harley.

"Not really," Harley said. "Not without a mask on, anyway." Babs laughed a little bit.

"Dick is the Golden Boy," she said. "Everybody loves him. He was class president all four years of high school," she said. "Every girl wanted to date him. Every guy wanted to be his best friend. What can I say? The man is charming," she said with a rueful smile.

"Except to his father, I guess," Harley said philosophically, causing Steph to burst out laughing, but Babs grimaced.

"And except to me, sometimes," she said, causing Harley's eyes to flash in sudden sympathy. Babs sighed.

"Someone has to take the heat when everything Dick stuffs down inside of him explodes," she said, rubbing her eyebrows. "What do they say? You hurt the ones you love?" Harley nodded.

"That makes sense," she said, going Dr. Quinzel on the conversation. "If he's a people-pleaser than of course everyone loves him. But if he ain't settin' no boundaries and he's lettin' people take advantage of him all the time, he's building up resentments until he gets to the point where he can't hold them in anymore, so who does he go off on? The people he feels the safest around. You and Bruce."

"Yep," Barbara said moodily, sipping her coffee. "But," she sighed, "I do think him and Bruce are going to get some big baggage off of their backs tonight. I'm hoping this is the start of a change."

"It will be," Harley assured her. "It's a huge step to be honest for the first time. And once a person starts, it feels so good to let that stuff go that it's hard to go back to stuffin' it all in."

"Thanks," Babs murmured with a grateful look. "But what about you, Steph?" she said, turning back to face their younger sister. "What happened worse today than usual? Not that I like hearing that it's been happening for so long, but I haven't seen you like this before." Steph sighed miserably.

"Well, they always pick on me about Tim. Like saying we're dating, even though we aren't, or that we're incestuous because we both live with Bruce, even though obviously we're not brother and sister."

"Oh, my God," Babs said again.

"Kids," Harley said with disgust.

"But this one girl, Chloe, she really started going after me today for being a virgin," Steph said.

"How the fuck does she know if you're a virgin or not?" Harley said.

"She doesn't," Steph said. "Not really. But, I am. And it's probably obvious. But, anyway, she really started in on me about it, and her boyfriend started going after Tim, too, saying Tim's not man enough to make me a woman, and that I should let this other guy Brad pop my cherry since Tim can't get it up -"

"That is sexual harassment," Babs said, horrified. "You could complain to the school administrators about that and they'd have to deal with it." Harley and Steph glanced at each other in mutual understanding and together gave Babs a pitying look.

"You were a popular kid, weren't ya," Harley said to Barbara.

"Of course she was," Steph grumbled. "She was dating Dick the Golden Boy." Harley laughed but Babs looked confused.

"I never thought I was super popular," she said.

"Did ya ever get picked on?" Harley asked her.

"No," Babs said slowly.

"Popular as fuck," Harley said to Steph, who nodded in agreement.

"Well, so what?" Babs said in frustration. "That doesn't mean she shouldn't go to the administrators about it."

"Babs, Babs, Babs," Harley said, shaking her head.

"That would be social suicide," Steph spelled out for her, with a small glare. "So don't go telling anyone behind my back, Babs. I'd have to quit school and be homeschooled with Damian." Babs gave her and Harley a worried look.

"Then what do we do?" she said.

"Did this girl Chloe just lose her cherry?" Harley asked Steph, who thought for a second and then laughed a little bit.

"She could have," she said. "I mean, I would've thought she'd lost it a long time ago, but, yeah. Maybe."

"She might be going in on you if she regrets it," Harley pointed out. "Wants to tear you down 'cause you remind her of a decision she wishes she hadn't made." Steph sighed.

"That doesn't really make it any better for me," she pointed out. "Even if it's true. Which it might not be."

"No," Harley said, "it might not be true. But sometimes it helps to remember that it's usually not about you when someone's being an asshole. Her boyfriend's friend might really want to date you, too, and that's why his boy is sayin' all that," Harley said.

"Oh, ew," Babs said. "That is the grossest possible way to go about it," she said.

"Brad might want to fuck me," Steph said logically, "but I doubt he wants to date me. Cluemaster's daughter and her mommy's an addict living on the streets? No way," she said dully. "No one there wants to date me for real and I wouldn't date anyone at that school, anyway. They'd only be using me so they could humiliate me later."

"Well, we have to do something," Babs said in frustration. "I'm not going to sit by and let this happen to you, Steph."

Steph groaned but Harley got a wicked gleam in her eye.

"Steph, you'd like to see those assholes pay, right?" she said. Steph looked at her.

"If I didn't have to pay for it later myself, yeah. But not if they're going to come after me even worse after whatever you do." Harley nodded.

"I got you, baby girl," she said, reaching over to pat Steph's hand. "You leave it to Harley."

"Harley…" Babs said slowly, but Harley shook her head.

"Nuh-uh, Commish. Close your ears and look away on this one. This is your little sister, right?" Harley said. "Us Batgirls got to stick together," she said firmly. Babs hesitated for only a second.

"Right," she said, nodding and reaching out to hold Steph's other hand. Steph looked up at Babs in surprise.

"Really?" she said hesitantly, and Barbara's heart ached at the longing and misery she saw in Steph's eyes.

"Really," Barbara said. "I didn't always play by the rules," she said with a grin. "Hell, I wouldn't even be Commissioner if I hadn't learned so much from being a vigilante first. Just don't kill anybody," she said sharply to Harley, who glared back at her with some offense.

"I wouldn't dream of it!" Harley said. "High school kids? No way, Babs, come on, now. I ain't Mistah J," she said with disgust. "What do ya think I killed him for?" Barbara's mouth dropped open.

"You killed Joker?" she said in disbelief.

"Oh, my God," Harley grumbled, "can we please make a Batfamily group text or somethin' so I don't gotta be repeatin' myself two hundred times? Yes, I killed him. For killing Jay, as it happens. I did him in seven years ago right after he did it."

"Well," Babs said, blinking as she processed that. "I guess you and Jason really were destined to be together, then," she snickered.

"Whaddya think he liked me so much for?" Harley said with a smirk and a hair toss that even Steph smiled at.

"Remember that, Steph," Harley said to her seriously. "If the guy you like ever gets killed, make sure you take out his murderer. Just in case. You never know who's gonna be comin' back to life in this crazy town and let me tell you, was Jay ever gra-a-a-te-ful," Harley hummed happily as Babs and Steph giggled.

"I'll keep it in mind," Steph said, "but I'd rather he not get himself killed in the first place," she said with a little bit of worry in her voice.

"Well, if you're that concerned, maybe you oughtta convince him to hang the mask up with ya for a few years," Harley said with a frown, causing Steph to promptly blush. Hard.

"Oh!" she said. "No - I didn't mean - um," she got even redder and couldn't finish the sentence. Babs leaned over and gave her a conspiratorial wink.

"There is an established tradition of Batgirls getting together with Robins," she whispered mischievously. Steph groaned and hid her head in her arms.

"Are you ok, Steph?" Tim called over from the counter, prompting an even louder moan and a lot of giggles from the ladies at the kitchen table.

"She's fine," Harley sang back to him. "Girl talk. Mind your own business, boys."

"Indeed, Tim Drake," Damian said with superiority. "Your cake is suffering from your lack of attention." Tim raised his eyebrow as he looked over at Damian's magazine worthy cover shoot of a confection.

"Damian, I'm not even going to pretend that I can compete with that," Tim said honestly, shaking his head in wonder. Damian's lips curled up the smallest amount in pleasure as Alfred sighed with pride.

"It is indeed a masterpiece, Master Damian," Alfred said. "Next lesson, you will be ready to learn how to craft roses. Not you yet, though, Master Timothy," Alfred said. "One must perfect the basics before one is ready for the advanced lessons." Steph giggled.

"I hate decorating cakes," she whispered to Harley and Babs. "Do you think Alfred will let me out of the future lessons?"

"Ask Bruce," Harley said wisely. "You don't gotta learn how to make a cake pretty for it to taste good. I think old Al can be satisfied with having Damian as a student for the pretty stuff."

"Tell Bruce about the bullying, too," Babs said seriously.

"No," Steph whined. "He'll want to get involved and solve it."

"It wouldn't be a bad thing for him to take more of an interest in your life," Harley pointed out. "And he can support you in a lot of ways without going all Batman on it to fix it. Although, you might have to teach him that part," she said with a twinkle in her eye.

"Ice cream is a valuable resource for fathers of teenaged girls. You should mention that," she grinned as Steph thought about her words.

"Plus, you don't want to end up one day like Dick," Babs said with a little shudder. "And have it come spewing out like a volcano all over Ti-" Steph cleared her throat loudly and glared at Barbara.

"Sorry," Babs whispered as Harley poked her.

"You're too long out of the secrets game, sister," Harley said playfully. "Lost your edge."

"Yeah, yeah," Babs muttered with an embarrassed smile.

"Ok," Steph said softly, making a decision. "I'll try to talk to Bruce about it soon. But you really think you can get it to stop, Harley? For good? I don't see how that's possible."

"That," Harley said calmly, "is because you ain't a villain. Watch and learn, little hero. It pays to have friends in low places."

And Steph couldn't help feeling a little better, and not just because Harley had a plan. The teenager's heart was full of a warm glow as she smiled at Babs and Harley with the quiet sound of Alfred's gentle murmuring instructions to Tim and Damian in the background.

_Family_, Stephanie thought again to herself, as she had the night that Bruce had first hugged her and Tim. The word was starting to feel like it meant what it was supposed to, and Steph was starting to feel like she belonged.


	20. Chapter 20

_**Chapter 20**_

Babs looked up hopefully as Dick and Bruce walked into the kitchen, and she let out a relieved breath at Dick's loose shoulders and Bruce's moderately neutral face.

"All good?" she asked, looking between the two of them and noticing Dick's red eyes. Bruce nodded but Dick actually smiled as he came over to her.

"Really good," he said quietly, bending down to hold her face and give her a soft kiss as he stroked his thumbs over her cheeks. He didn't pull away as fast as Babs thought he would and as her tummy fluttered, she thought how glad she was that her Robin could still give her shivers after all of these years. He saw the heat in her eyes when he finally broke the kiss and gave her a little wink, and Babs felt herself grinning like a lovestruck teenager.

Maybe their relationship would finally settle down into the easy partnership that Babs had first expected it to be, she thought to herself. She had never stopped longing for what she knew that they could achieve - the teamwork and cooperation and mutual respect and affection that they'd had so long ago as Batgirl and Robin. Those memories were what she clung to over the years on every long night that Dick had spent sulking in Bludhaven instead of sleeping in her bed where he belonged.

And now, when she saw the peace in his eyes that had been absent for so, so long, Barbara couldn't help but feel hopeful. Dick's eyes grew tender as he stroked some of her long red hair back from her face and bent to kiss her cheek.

"I love you," he whispered into her ear and she smiled.

"I love you, too," she said back to him softly, snaking her arms around him to tug him into a hug. She sighed as he held her, neither one of them letting go until Bruce cleared his throat loudly, but with a touch of amusement.

"We were going to have a game night," he said pointedly, but there was a little smile on his face as he looked at his eldest son making peace with his almost-wife. But Steph groaned.

"I'm not in the mood for games," she grumbled. Bruce started to frown but Harley caught his eye and shook her head a tiny bit.

"We could just eat our cakes," Tim suggested as he looked at Steph. She nodded but Damian frowned.

"I was promised competition," he said, folding his little arms across his chest and glaring first at Tim and then at Steph. "An attack can come when you least expect it, Stephanie Brown," he said severely. "Training when you do not feel like it will benefit your preparedness and may one day save your life."

"We were going to play Scattergories!" Steph protested. "That's hardly life or death training, Damian."

"Sharpening one's mind is a most necessary part of training," Damian scolded her. "And one that you could benefit greatly from, based on your report card," he added with a smirk, looking to his father triumphantly as Steph shot daggers at him out of her eyes.

Bruce sighed and started to look defeated. _Goddamn parenting,_ he thought to himself with frustration. None of the kids sassed Bane like this and despite his lingering anger at his friend, Bruce found himself missing his one-time enemy. His absence hurt like a nagging toothache, although the pain felt surprisingly good. It meant that Bane was important to him. Well, more than important, Bruce mentally groaned.

How the hell did that even happen? he wondered to himself. He'd never thought that he was bisexual. It wasn't like he went around getting hard-ons for other guys. But something about Bane made Bruce want to curl up in his arms. What the fuck, he sighed as he considered his kids and wished that he could be as good with them as Bane was.

And sure, Bruce could be Batman-the-Asshole and force them to do whatever he wanted, but he was trying to be a better parent. And Steph did look like shit, when he considered her more closely, but if Damian went into a sulking fit they'd all pay for it, for God only knew how long.

Bruce looked over to Alfred for help, but he merely gave him a bemused smile, so Bruce found his eyes turning to Harley in a silent but desperate plea for salvation. Harley beamed at him.

"I have a great idea!" she said with enthusiasm. All the eyes in the kitchen turned to her - Damian's narrowed and suspicious, Steph's baleful, and Tim's interested and alert. Dick and Babs looked mildly curious, and Bruce realized that he hadn't introduced Dick to Harley yet.

"Hold that thought," he said to Harley, although his relieved gaze washed her in a flood of gratitude. "This is Dick," he said to her. "Dick, Harley."

"Hi," Dick said, raising his eyebrow as he slowly reached his hand out to her.

"Hi, yourself, Nightwing," Harley said cheerfully, and even though she didn't have gum in her mouth, Bruce could practically hear it crack as she grabbed Dick's hand and pumped it up and down.

"So, here's my idea," she immediately went on, undeterred by Bruce's intrusion of manners. "I thought of this the first day I got here, actually," she beamed. "Those bannisters on that big old staircase have been calling out to me," she said. "And I think we should have a sliding competition!"

Damian sat up straight as an arrow and gave Harley a sharp, fierce nod.

"I approve," he said with authority. Tim looked a little befuddled, but he slowly said, "Ok."

"Steph can judge," Harley said graciously, "because her ankle is broken," but she added a wink to the teenager as she reached across the table and patted Steph's hand.

Steph relaxed a little bit and mumbled, "Ok. But Alfred has to help," she said, looking to their elderly grandparent with a friendly smile.

Alfred fluffed up like a peacock. "I would be honored, Miss Stephanie," he said with great dignity.

"Good!" Harley said, clapping her hands together. "Everybody else has to compete," she said, looking around at the adults. "Oh! I have the greatest idea! Well, the second greatest one!" she said, standing up and starting to bounce a little bit.

"Let grab some blankets and spread them out on the foyer floor and we can have a cake picnic while we play!" Alfred looked shocked and was about to protest, but Tim was already jumping onto Harley's plan.

"Come on, Damian," he said, "to the guest rooms!" Damian took a flying leap off of his stool and the two of them took off running, leaving an astonished Alfred speechless in the kitchen. Bruce quickly turned away from him with shaking shoulders, covering his mouth with his hand and looking down at the floor while Dick looked on, amused.

"Maybe you could put on a pot of coffee, Al?" Babs asked him gently as she came over to rub his back. "At least the blankets will keep the crumbs off the floor," she added as she guided a muttering Alfred over to the kitchen counter. "And the guest room blankets could maybe use a wash anyway, huh?" she asked him, but Alfred gave her a severe look.

"They were just washed two days ago, Miss Barbara," he sniffed. "As they always are on Wednesdays."

"Oh," she said quietly, now the one biting her lip as she glanced over her shoulder at Dick, whose own shoulders were starting to shake.

"Grab the other cakes," he quickly said to Bruce, grabbing the first one off of the counter so he could make his escape. Bruce moved to pick up Tim and Damian's, but he suddenly stopped short.

"Good God," he said, picking up Damian's cake and looking at it in awe. He slowly turned it around as his jaw hung open.

"Did you see this?" he asked Babs and Harley, who nodded. Alfred half turned around from the coffeepot and beamed with pride.

"Young Master Damian shows promise," he said.

"More than promise," Bruce muttered, looking at the perfectly, intricately designed and decorated cake covered with tiny rosettes, piped trim, vines, and leaves.

"He came up with sixty-seven ways to kill people using the decorating tips, too, while he worked," Steph said conversationally as she picked up her crutches and started to make her way to the foyer.

"Of course he did," Bruce mumbled, but there was some affectionate pride in his eyes as he said it. Harley grabbed a stack of plates and forks out of the cupboard and set them on the counter.

"Smart kid, that one," she said, pulling a large cake knife out of its holder. "Maybe me and Al can convince him to be a baker instead of a vigilante." Bruce laughed.

"Have you met Damian?" he said sarcastically. "I don't think Mr. Sixty-Seven Ways to Die is going to be easily dissuaded from being Robin when he's older."

"Don't get me started on that, Bruce," Harley warned him, shaking the cake knife at him ferociously.

"Miss Harley!" Alfred said in horror at the same time that Dick yelled "Be careful with Alfred's knife!" and Bruce's eyes went wide in terror. Dick ran over to Harley and firmly but very delicately removed the knife from her hands and gently laid it on the counter.

"We do not touch Alfred's knives in this house," Dick said to her seriously, putting his hands on her shoulders and looking into her eyes like a frightened animal. "Never," he repeated. "Never, ever, ever, touch Alfred's knives."

Bruce was wiping his brow while Alfred managed to snatch his knife up from the counter as carefully as if it was a Fabergé egg. He looked at Harley sternly as he cradled it in his hands.

"Kitchen knives are _not _weapons, Miss Harley!" he reprimanded her. Harley stared at him, Bruce, and Dick. Babs looked like she was about to giggle.

"What the hell am I missing?" Harley asked them suspiciously.

"It is forbidden to speak of it in this house," Dick said somberly, putting the cake plates and forks back into her empty hands. "Ask Jason," he mumbled under his breath so that Alfred couldn't hear.

"It was bad," Babs whispered to her as she took her by the elbow and guided her out of the kitchen.

"It must have been," Harley said in wonder, looking back at Alfred who was practically cooing over his knife while inspecting it for dings.

Tim and Damian had already returned to the foyer with huge piles of blankets which they were arranging on the black and white tiled floor under Steph's direction as the adults walked in, minus Alfred who was busying himself with his knife and the coffee.

"I'll get Alfred a chair," Bruce said, setting the cakes down well out of the way of the emerging picnic blankets. "Do you want one, too, Steph?" he asked her, unsure of how comfortably she could sit with her broken ankle on the ground.

"Maybe just a pillow," she said, and Bruce nodded, heading off to a living room to grab the additional seating.

"I'll go help Alfred bring the coffee in when it's done," Babs said, ready to head back to the kitchen after eyeing the unfolding chaos in the foyer.

"What have you done to my family?" Dick asked Harley only half-jokingly as he, too, took in their energetic preparations for a night of sliding down the fucking bannisters. Seriously, what the hell, he thought to himself. Even when Talia was still here, they never played around like this. Harley shrugged.

"I'm a powerful and dangerous woman," she said. "Gloominess, beware!" she called out with vigor as she flung her arms out to the sides. "Harley Todd is coming for you!"

"Oh," Dick said in surprise. "You took Jason's name." Harley looked at him.

"Quinn was never my name," she said darkly, suddenly sobering. "And Quinzel, well, that's hardly still me, is it?" she asked him moodily. "I'm Harley Hood to the community, now," she added. "For secretive purposes. But, of course, you can still call me the Queen or Your Majesty," she said without any trace of humor at all.

"Right," Dick said, giving her some side-eye.

"You need to work things out with my husband, you know," Harley said to him abruptly. Dick stiffened.

"He's said something?" he asked her hesitantly.

"Jay tells me everything," Harley said coolly, looking decidedly less friendly to Dick than she had been to Babs earlier that night during the girls' coffee-chat. Dick swallowed uncomfortably.

"I know I haven't been very fair to him," he said, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. "I was kind of a mess after losing my family," Dick said, "and I blamed Jason for a lot of things that weren't his fault." Harley's demeanor only became the slightest bit softer.

"Well, it's normal to get fucked up when your family gets killed," she said reluctantly. "And I get you were still a teenager when Bruce adopted Jay. But from what I hear, you gave Jay a hell of a lot of shit and had your head pretty far up your ass." Her tone was terse and Dick flushed, knowing damn well what Harley was talking about.

"That's accurate," he said quietly, looking guilty and feeling unable to meet Harley's eyes. Because even Babs didn't know the full extent of Dick's past antagonism towards Jason, and there were things that Dick had fervently wished would stay buried with Jason forever.

"I'll talk to Jason when he gets back," Dick said, closing his eyes for a minute to try to will the memories away, even if only temporarily. He offered up a silent prayer that maybe he and Jason could work things out, but honestly? Dick wasn't so sure it was possible. Even up until a month ago, he'd been an asshole about Jason and although working things out today with Bruce had helped him see the past more clearly, Dick finally knew that nothing excused his behavior back then.

And given who Jason was today… Dick had doubts that he would be forgiven. His anxious thoughts were interrupted by Bruce's return to the foyer with an armchair for Alfred. Dick opened his eyes as Bruce tossed the pillow in it to Steph who set it down on the blankets and cautiously lowered herself to the floor with Tim's help. She gave him the sweetest smile as he held her hands and kept her balanced and Dick noticed that Harley and Bruce were both smiling a little bit, too, as they watched the teens interact.

_Huh, _Dick thought. _Guess I should've seen that coming. _Babs and Alfred came back at that moment with trays of coffee mugs and ice water that they started passing around as everyone took their seats on the blankets and waited for Harley to explain the rules of her crazy game.

"So!" Harley said delightedly, clapping her hands as she moved to the front of the group like a schoolteacher. "Take your shoes off, you need to be in socks," she commanded. "The first round is who can get down the fastest. We'll keep it easy so you can get the feel of the railings. But then we're gonna vigilante it up," she said with excitement.

"Damian, you and me are up first to show them how it's done," Harley announced to Damian's great pleasure. "Come on," she said, running up the wide marble stairs that spilled out into the foyer from the second floor overlook. Damian quickly overtook her as they pounded up the stairs in their sock feet and he took his position at the top of the left bannister as Harley went to the one on the right.

"We have to go down on our feet like we're surfing on a balance beam," Harley told him. "Ok?" she said and Damian nodded, already climbing up to stand at the top of the rail. Harley took her position, too.

"Steph, give us the signal," she called down.

"Ready?" Steph called up, raising her hand up while holding her cake fork.

"Ready!" Damian and Harley yelled back.

"Oh, my God," Dick muttered in amused disbelief, looking over at Bruce, who was seated to his left. Bruce was actually grinning like a little kid with his eyes lit up, eager to see what happened.

"What if someone falls off?" Alfred called up to the competitors.

"Then they deserve the pain," Damian yelled back and Harley giggled.

"She doesn't want them out fighting crime but surfing down the bannisters in their socks with no safety mats is acceptable?" Alfred said to Bruce, leaning forward in his chair to speak in his ear.

"I don't think that particular part of her brain is working right now," Bruce murmured back up to him with a playful twinkle in his eye. "Don't spoil it, Alfred," he pouted, "no one's going to fall. I trained them better than that."

"Very well, sir," Alfred replied with a sigh. "Our bracelets should have said 'codependent' instead of 'BFF'," he lamented, but Bruce just chuckled.

"It's fine," he said again. "Go ahead," he prompted Steph, who still had her fork in the air and was giving him an impatient look accompanied by a mighty huff.

"Ready?" she called out again, waggling the fork for good measure. "Go!" she yelled, dropping the fork onto the blankets.

Damian and Harley pushed off and assumed a crouched position as they slid down the marble railings. Harley angled her body forward to gain momentum but Damian had thrust himself off at the start with a powerful kick of his back leg and bent his body as low and flat as he could make it to cut down on wind resistance, and he sailed past Harley and flew off the bannister ahead of her, touching down to the floor gracefully on his feet and rolling into a somersault to land. Harley finished last, but she landed with a cartwheel and a backflip.

"Yay!" Steph and Tim cheered and Babs whistled while the men clapped. "One point for Damian!" Steph announced. "Now Dick and Babs," she said, turning to face them. Dick laughed and started pulling Babs to her feet, but she started protesting.

"That's not fair!" she said. "I'm out of practice. It should be me versus Tim and Dick versus Bruce."

"Hey!" Tim protested. "I take offense to that," he teased.

"Aw, come on, baby," Dick wheedled her, sliding his hands seductively up and down Barbara's waist and hips. "It'll be like the old days," he flirted, and Babs giggled and looked back at Harley and Steph who gave her responding grins and thumbs-ups.

"Ok," she said, leaning in for a quick kiss. "But I'm totally gonna beat you up the stairs!" she yelled, pushing him suddenly aside and making a break for it. Unsurprisingly, Dick won his heat but Tim won his, having less body mass and a leaner frame. Bruce made a good effort though, and truly, seeing Batman slide down the railing in socks was worth its weight in gold, even if he was dressed as Bruce Wayne, Harley thought to herself with glee, secretly filming it on her phone to send to Jason later. And, to save for blackmail just in case she ever needed it. Because you never knew.

The competition continued with more rounds, some involving cartwheels and flips, some as freestyle with points awarded for tricks, some with match-my-moves dares, but all of them with loads of laughter from the whole family as they watched and judged. The points became mostly irrelevant to everyone except Damian who followed Steph and Alfred's judging like a hawk, although even his face had a rare smile on it, which Bruce noted with a tender look in his eyes and a renewed feeling of thankfulness in his heart to Harley.

She was crazy, sure, but… maybe sometimes crazy wasn't so bad, Bruce thought as he watched Tim and Dick go head to head with aerial cartwheels while Alfred gasped and clutched his breast dramatically. Steph watched Tim most appreciatively as he twisted and turned through the air, although she quickly masked her features when he landed.

"Osito needs to do a round," Bruce said to Damian, who had his bear sitting next to him on the blankets enjoying the picnic with the rest of the family. Damian's eyes lit up.

"You have to catch him if he falls, Father," Damian said to Bruce seriously as he got up with his stuffed friend. "Osito has not had the training that the rest of us have received."

"Ok," Bruce said, secretly rejoicing that his son the assassin was acting like a child for once. "Dick, come spot Osito on the other side," he called to his oldest son, who had just landed with a double flip.

"Do not let him fall," Damian said to Dick with a ferocious warning in his eyebrows.

"Or else Osito will stab you with his shiv," Bruce added with an equally ferocious Batman glare which caused Damian to nod in satisfaction.

"What?" Dick said, startled, trying to look more carefully at the bear as Damian ran ahead of them up the stairs.

"Just don't drop him and you'll be safe," Tim called to him with a grin as he sat down next to Steph on the blankets. "I'm glad I'm not the one catching him," he said to Steph, pressing his shoulder into hers, which made his mouth awfully close to her face. Steph blushed a little bit when she turned her head to answer and found their lips practically touching.

"Um, me too," she stammered out. "I'd like you to live," she said as their breath mingled together and she looked into his eyes. Were they possibly looking back into hers with a little more warmth and affection than usual? Steph wondered.

She was so used to looking into Tim's eyes; hell, most of their communication was silent snarky glances or secret laughter or mutual understanding that flashed between their pupils in quick meetings of their minds. And Tim's eyes were always so welcoming and comfortable. But they were often timid and anxious, too.

Except since Bane had been here, Steph had begun to notice a lot more confidence in Tim's gaze. And in his voice and manner, too, she realized. He seemed less like a nervous hen and more settled in his own skin. And Steph liked the change. A lot. So she smiled and pressed her shoulder back into Tim's until they were distracted by Damian shouting at Dick.

They looked up to see Dick dive down several steps to catch Osito right before he hit the stairs - and Osito's head promptly popped off and rolled away. Damian shrieked and Dick gasped. Bruce quickly ran to retrieve Osito's head and met Dick with it as a screaming Damian came running down the stairs to attack Dick, cursing at him in several different languages, a few of which Steph couldn't even recognize.

Dick quickly thrust Osito out at Damian and Bruce looking helplessly between them as Bruce calmly stuck Osito's head back onto the -

"Wait, is that the shiv?" Steph said to Tim. He snickered.

"It looks like Osito's spinal cord is Bane's secret weapon," he said.

"So… that must mean the head was supposed to come off?" Steph said in confusion. "Then why is Damian yelling?"

"It's Damian," Tim said reasonably by way of explanation. Bruce was bending down to his tiny assassin trying to comfort him as Damian continued his shrill diatribe against the incompetence of one Dick Grayson, who was sheepishly shuffling away back to Babs.

"Oops," he said with an embarrassed smile. Babs laughed and Harley and Alfred shook their heads. Dick pulled Babs up to her feet and into a warm kiss. "We should probably get going," he said to her, and the steamy look in his eye was reason enough for Babs to promptly agree.

"Yeah, I gotta patrol tonight, anyway," Harley said getting to her feet, too, "and you're on Jumbotron duty, Batboy," she said, reaching out to ruffle Tim's hair up affectionately. "And we gotta get all this cleaned up and meditate."

"This was fun, Harley," Barbara said to her, turning to give her a hug. "I'm glad to get to know you."

"Yeah, you too, Babs," Harley said with a friendly smile, which faded as she looked past her to Dick. He cleared his throat.

"I'll, um, talk to Jason when he's back in town," he said.

"You do that," Harley said without a smile. Babs looked from Harley to Dick.

"He'll work it out," she assured Harley, who nodded a little bit.

"I'll see you around, then," she said, moving to help Alfred pick the dishes up off of the blankets. Babs gave Dick a look.

"Exactly how bad were things between you and Jason when he died?" she said softly. She frowned as she saw Dick's neck start to turn red as his blush crept further along his body.

"Kind of bad," he mumbled. Babs looked concerned and would have said more, but Bruce was propelling Damian and Osito over to them.

"Give your brother a hug," Bruce instructed Damian, "and tell him you forgive him for letting Osito's head pop off."

"He should apologize before I forgive him," Damian sulked.

"I'm very, very sorry," Dick said at once with complete sincerity, bending down to give Damian a hug. "Osito is lucky to have a friend like you who would never let him lose his head. He would be in trouble if he was depending on me." A small, pleased smile began to curl at the edges of Damian's lips.

"Indeed he would, Dick Grayson," Damian said with superiority. "I suppose you cannot help being inadequate," Damian sighed. "We forgive you," he said magnanimously.

"Thank you," Dick said gravely. Damian tolerated hugs from Babs, too, before she and Dick hugged Bruce good-bye.

"We should start having regular family dinners," Bruce said to them. "Once Jason and Bane get back. I missed you," he said to Babs, cupping her cheek. "And I'm glad that you and me worked things out," he said, turning to Dick and hugging him tight. Dick squeezed him just as hard and blinked away his tears.

"I need to work some stuff out first with Jason," he said to Bruce. "But if we can do that… yeah, I guess family dinners would be nice. Now that you and me won't be fighting through them," he grinned sheepishly.

"If me and Jason can make peace, you two ought to be able to," Bruce said. Dick sighed.

"I hope so," he muttered, feeling completely unsure. As they finished making their rounds of hugs and good-byes, the knot in Dick's stomach grew. He knew that Babs had questions. And he'd tell her. He was done hiding things and stuffing them in. But… he wished that he could go back and rewrite the past. Because Jason had deserved a hell of a lot more than the shitty brother he'd ended up with in Dick Grayson.


	21. Chapter 21

_**Chapter 21**_

"And… we're live," Tim said into the comm.

"Good evening, Gotham!" Harley chirped cheerfully. Her ten story tall Batgirl-covered-face was lighting up the Gotham Central jumbotron at exactly midnight. "This is Batgirl reporting to you live with some breaking Batfamily news!"

"That's not how I talk," Steph grumbled from her seat next to Tim in front of the Batcomputer. Damian and Osito were sitting on her other side in Bruce's lap as the family watched Harley's broadcast on the monitors in the BatCave.

"It's a better disguise if it's not how you talk," Bruce pointed out, and Steph gave him a glimmer of a half-smile without taking her eyes off of the screen. Their phones were buzzing too, with the emergency message overrides so Harley's poor imitation of Steph was coming through in stereo.

"This just in from Arkham Asylum," Harley said. "Six inmates have earned presidential pardons for patriotically assisting the government in some top-secret operations. So when you see them around town, be sure to give them a big thank you for all of their dedication and for reminding us that no one is beyond redemption!"

"Yes, run up to Deadshot and give him a thank you hug," Bruce snarked to the screen. "Good advice, Harley."

"Better than running up to Killer Croc," Tim said as he flashed the GCPD web address on the screen as 'Batgirl' directed citizens to check out the proof of her statements. Steph giggled and even Bruce got a small grin although Damian, of course, remained impassive.

"And, as a way to welcome these newly innocent citizens back into Gotham society," Harley was continuing, "Batman and the Batfamily have invited the Suicide Squad to assist us this week with patrols. So keep an eye out for Harley Hood - hey, did you all know she got married recently to Red Hood and killed the Joker? How's that for looking out for Gotham?"

"She's going off-script," Damian said crossly. "How can she expect to patrol successfully as a member of the Batfamily when she fails to correctly implement the details of a well-ordered plan?" Bruce snuggled Damian and Osito a little tighter in his arms.

"She just has to get through this week," Bruce said to him consolingly, although his eyes were twinkling behind his tiny son's head. "And she's only ad libbing a little bit," he said as his lips twitched in amusement, but he had hardly finished speaking before Harley started hamming up the intros of the Suicide Squad, too. _Oh, well, _Bruce thought. _That's Harley. _

Truthfully, he wasn't so sure that it was a great idea to announce to the masses that Joker was dead, but he could understand Harley wanting to completely divest her identity from her tormentor and when it came down to it, he was surprised to realize that he trusted Harley to keep the underworld in order. If she thought it was fine to publicize Joker's death, then it probably was.

Besides, she'd told Waller, and there was no way that Waller would keep that juicy tidbit to herself if she thought that she could use it to her advantage. So, Bruce mused, maybe Harley had the right idea, after all, to steal the warden's thunder by breaking the news herself. Well, except she was breaking it dressed as Batgirl. And, by doing that, was she giving off a subtle message that the Batfamily approved of killing? What did that -

"You're up in your head as much as I usually am," Tim broke into his thoughts, looking over at him with a grin.

Bruce chuckled as he caught himself and he met his Robin's eyes with much more affection than he was used to projecting. And, Tim was looking back at him with more ease than anxiety in his gaze, which was a welcome change to the Nervous Nelly that he usually was. Not that he could blame the boy for being nervous around him, Bruce thought with some guilt. Batman had been a cold, hard, asshole the last several years and had only recently begun to thaw.

"You've got more self-confidence since Bane took over for me," Bruce said to Tim with a soft smile so that it came off as a compliment rather than a resentment. "It's a good look on you," he added. Steph, who had turned to look at Bruce when he spoke, swiveled over to Tim and smiled up in his eyes.

"It does look good," she added and Tim actually flushed a little bit but he held her gaze and smiled back at her.

"Thank you," he said quietly to Steph, but then he flicked his eyes up to Bruce and smiled his thanks at him, too.

"What changed?" Bruce started to ask him but Steph shushed him suddenly as Deadshot came onto the screen.

"Now, look here, Gothamites," he said to the city. "The parameters of our contract with the Bat prohibit us from using lethal force this week… but that don't mean that I won't take great pleasure in shooting your kneecaps off if you spite me. So go ahead, rob those stores, jack those cars, assault those wom -" Batgirl shoved him hard and put her face back on the screen.

"Do not assault women or Killer Croc will bite your dicks off," she said ferociously.

"Right," Deadshot corrected, coming back into view as Killer Croc could be heard bitching at Batgirl in the background. "Scratch that last one. No assaulting women. But other than that, go ahead and try me, because I've been cooped up in Arkham a long time and I need to get some aggression out."

"Oh, my God," Bruce groaned.

"Correction," Killer Frost said, her blue face popping up around Deadshot. "Assault women and I will freeze your dicks solid and then snap them off with my bare hands and grind them to powder in front of you."

Damian had sat up straighter when Deadshot took the screen and he was watching the villains' ongoing dialogue with animated, albeit professional, interest, but Bruce was moaning and had started to rub his forehead with one hand.

"I knew I was going to regret this," he said. "What have I done?"

"It's fine, Bruce," Tim said with authority, causing all three heads in the cave to turn and look at him in surprise. "What?" Tim asked them. "So some criminals get a little more roughed up than normal. No one's going to get killed and it's not a bad thing to shake things up every now and then so we don't become predictable." Damian eyed Tim thoughtfully before slowly nodding in respect.

"Timothy Drake is not incorrect," he said.

"Notice he doesn't say I'm right," Tim teased and Steph giggled.

"Damian has high standards," she said.

"Indeed I do, Stephanie Brown," Damian said with satisfaction.

"What has Bane been teaching you?" Bruce asked Tim, sounding mystified but impressed.

"Oh, I guess he got me thinking about how I'm the next Batman," Tim said calmly, causing Bruce's eyebrows to shoot up. "And Bane said that I need to start preparing myself for that instead of thinking that I'm only Robin."

"Oh," Bruce said in muted surprise. Tim met his eyes.

"Because you won't be going back out there," he told Bruce with quiet conviction. And Bruce took a deep breath and slowly let it out on a sigh as the most profound grief hit him. He hadn't honestly considered his longterm future; he was having enough trouble getting through each moment of the present. He knew that Bane taking on the Bat was a huge relief and hell, he was happy to have Bane do it indefinitely.

But… was Bruce done? Really done? The Batman hadn't just been a _part_ of him for so long, it had _been _him. His whole identity as a human being, wrapped up in a mask and a cape and hiding in the shadows. And to lay that down permanently felt like a death with the accompanying sorrow. He swallowed hard, because his gut knew the truth that his brain hadn't wanted to acknowledge.

He jumped slightly as he felt Steph's hand on his arm.

"Some things that break can't get fixed," she said gently. "And that's ok, B. You're fixing us, now. As a family," she explained, starting to tear up a little bit. "We like you better this way," she added bravely and Bruce felt some of his own tears start. Along with the shame and guilt that went with being the bad parent and apathetic mentor who he used to be.

"You are well past your physical peak, anyway, Father," Damian said very reasonably and Bruce let out an offended chuckle.

"Well past, hm?" he said dryly but Damian merely nodded affirmatively.

"Well past," he repeated. "And Tim and Steph are not yet adequately trained to properly assist you in the field should you be outmatched."

"Hey!" Tim and Steph protested. Damian looked down his nose at them and sniffed.

"To deny your limitations is to limit your progress," he said severely. "Whose ankle and bo staff did Bane break?" he scoffed. The teenagers started to argue but Bruce interrupted them all.

"Damian is right," he said quietly but firmly. "About all of us. I am getting older, it's true. Even without having had a nervous breakdown," he added with a small smile on his face for Damian who nodded his vigorous agreement.

"And you two are not at your peak yet," he said to Steph and Tim, despite their angry faces. "But one day you will be. And until then…"

"We have Bane," Tim supplied. And Bruce couldn't deny that those words gave him a flutter of happy warmth low in his belly.

"We have Bane," Bruce repeated, enjoying how the words felt coming out of his mouth. But a weight started to sink down on his chest as he thought about how harsh he'd been with his friend earlier that day. Who had lied, yes, and dammit, that had really hurt. But Bruce had put on a tour de force asshole performance in return.

_I wonder if he'll even want to be with someone so fucked up, _Bruce thought, feeling melancholy again. _I might have screwed things up for good. _He hoped not, but…

"Boss!" he heard Captain Cold's urgent voice over the comms. "We have trouble!" Bruce clicked the comms on and was about to respond when he heard Harley's voice and realized that he wasn't the 'boss' being addressed. Well, that was new. He held his tongue and turned the volume up as they heard an angry voice ranting in the background.

"... realize that Batman only goes by the clocktower at precisely 12:34 a.m. every seventeenth Friday? I have been waiting for this day with great pleasure and immense patience and now you disorganized buffoons had to go and disrupt his schedule! Just for that I will destroy the clocktower with equal randomness to teach you a lesson in -"

"That's Clockmaster," Bruce said tensely into the comms. "What the fuck is he doing out of prison, Harley?" he asked her in annoyance.

"Even God can't control people's free will, Bats," Harley snarked back at him. "And Tempus ain't on my payroll, if that's what you're askin'. Cold and Frost are gonna keep him talkin'; me and Floyd and Croc are on our way over."

"He's holding a dead man's switch," Killer Frost said as they heard Captain Cold in the background trying to butter Clockmaster up by offering him a pardon, too, if he joined their team.

"Plans?" Harley asked her team.

"I'll distract him," Deadshot said, "and Croc'll sneak up on him and bite the hand with the switch off."

"Are you kidding me?" Croc growled at him.

"Nah, man, you got that big reptile tongue to hold the switch down until we get the bomb disabled," Floyd answered him. "You're good with your tongue, right?" he asked saucily.

"June has no compla -" Bruce clapped his hands over Damian's ears who squawked in protest as Steph blushed and Tim giggled.

"Besides, you remember the crocodile in Peter Pan? Who had the clock in his belly?" Deadshot was snickering. "He bit Captain Hook's hand off. Let him be your spirit guide."

"You think you're funny," Killer Croc grumbled, "but that's just rude."

"I wasn't trying to be funny; I was being ironic," Floyd shot back.

"Well, you failed at that like Alanis Morisette," Croc said.

"Who's Alanis Morisette?" Damian asked as he finally succeeded in shoving Bruce's hands off of his ears.

"This is why we don't banter on the comms," Bruce muttered in disgust as Floyd protested "I was referencing literature, man! Come on! Don't sulk. You want people to see you as human then you should show some respect for the arts."

"Cut the chatter," Bruce ordered them, causing a startled silence to fall before the snickering started from all five members of the Suicide Squad.

"Ooh, Daddy Bats scolded you!" Killer Frost taunted. "Somebody's in trouuuuble!" she sang.

"Did you all forget that there's still a bomb on the Clocktower?" Bruce growled angrily.

"Naw, me and Snart are gonna go take care of that as soon as the others roll up," Frost said.

"We're coming in now," Harley said. "Floyd's gonna take over for Snart on distraction detail. I'm gonna cover Croc."

"Okey dokey," Frost answered. "I'm falling back now."

"I can't believe they haven't gotten themselves killed yet on Waller's missions," Bruce said with disgust to his orderly, well-behaved batlings, who were listening wide-eyed to the raucous mayhem that was apparently how the Suicide Squad got shit done.

"They are most unprofessional," Damian said in wonder.

"I guess we'll see if they manage to be effective, too," Bruce said. "At least the Watchtower is empty right now if the bomb goes off."

"Tempus!" they heard Deadshot's voice call out cheerfully. "Stop bein' a little bitch. It ain't our fault the Bat changed the schedule up tonight. We're here trying to earn a living. Why you gotta fuck that up for us? We just got out of prison, man. You think we want to deal with your shit tonight?"

"I have been waiting for over four months for this very night!" the Batfamily heard Clockmaster pout. "And now that the Bat is alerted to my plans, my moment is ruined forever!"

"But if you blow your bomb up, you're gonna have to build another one," Deadshot pointed out very reasonably. "Why don't we go get some beers and I'll help you think up a better spot to plant it in to surprise the Bat?"

Steph and Tim eyed Bruce who had started muttering profanities under his breath. Steph gently leaned over and replaced Bruce's hands on Damian's ears, who immediately started kicking Bruce's knees in frustration. Bruce let out one more choice curse before shutting up and uncovering Damian's ears as they continued to listen in.

"You're working for him," Clockmaster was saying petulantly to Deadshot. "You expect me to believe that you're going to help me?"

"I'm only contracted for a week, man," Floyd said back. "After that I'm a free agent. Come on, don't make me work hard tonight, Tempus. Be a pal."

Clockmaster's reply was cut off in a blood-curdling scream that was followed by howls of pain.

"Holy shit," Tim burst out, startled. Steph looked horrified but Damian was not only nonplussed but appeared quite impressed. Bruce's grunt sounded suspiciously amused as Harley broke into the comms.

"Croc has the trigger. He's holding it down. What's your status, Len?"

"Frosty's ramping us up to the clock face now."

"Freeze the clock hands first," Batman said. "He might still have a timer rigged up."

"Roger that," Leonard Snart answered and they heard the gentle hum of his ice gun firing. A second later, the BatComputer's video feed kicked in as Captain Cold clicked his camera on. He and Killer Frost were inside the clocktower looking through the intricate mechanisms for the bomb.

"To your right," Batman said. "Behind the middle gear."

"Got it," Frost answered, pointing it out to Snart. "Freeze it first?" she asked.

"Give me a close-up of it?" Bats asked them and Leonard moved in with the camera. Bruce grunted as he looked at a bundle of gears and wires and levers as beautifully intricate as the antique clocktower innards themselves, although they were elaborately arranged around a massive bundle of C4.

"Everyone's an artist," Bats muttered impatiently. "If that goes off even with ice around it, it'll kill you and do a lot of damage to the city," he said.

"No shit," Leonard said back. "We need to clockblock it," he said. Frost groaned loudly.

"Really, Leonard?" she asked him. Cold started sniping back at her as Bruce cut in angrily.

"Freeze the damn bomb and get it out of there," he said. "Before you idiots get killed. How the hell have you managed to stay alive this long?" he snarked at them.

"We're the best in the business," Snart said as he shot his cold gun over the bomb.

"That is a most disturbing commentary on the quality of Gotham villains," Damian said seriously.

"Aw, who is that?" Killer Frost cooed over the comms. "Bat-Mite? Oh, aren't you adorable. Bite my frosty ass," she said as she cut the frozen wires connecting the bomb to the clock. She carefully lifted the ice-encased bomb out from behind the clock gears and added a few more layers of ice to it for good measure.

"Let's go throw it in the harbor," Captain Cold said to her, picking it up. She nodded and they stepped up to the tower window where she crafted another icy ramp to lead them to the water. Bruce sighed long and hard as they sped off.

"Get back over here to us when you're done," Harley said over the comms. "I put a tourniquet on Tempus but I need you to freeze the wound shut and put his hand on ice so we can go get it reattached at the hospital."

"You're gonna give him his hand back?" Deadshot complained. "You're too soft, Harls."

"He has mental illness," Harley said back sharply. "We don't need to punish him with a permanent amputation if it can be fixed."

"Fine, fine, you're the boss," Floyd grumbled. "Y'all better hurry up, though, Frosty Freezes. Croc here looks like he's gonna gag on Fugit's hand any minute."

Bruce muttered under his breath as he and the batlings continued to watch on the video feed that Captain Cold had left on. Snart and Killer Frost sped along to Gotham Harbor, going well out to sea before dropping the bomb into the water. Once they looped their way back to land, Frost's voice came through.

"All clear, Croc," she said. "Let it rip." They heard a deafening boom in the background as the bomb exploded and Bruce finally heaved a sigh of relief. He shut off the mics and the video feed and stood up, gently setting Damian down on his feet.

"Harley is going to be the death of me," Bruce said, rubbing his hands over his head before walking around a little bit to shake his tension off. "Never in all my life…" he grumbled. Damian looked sympathetic in a rare display of emotion.

"That was a most disreputable display of ineptitude," he said. "Timothy Drake, when you are Batman, I shall not permit you to employ the Suicide Squad for any reason."

"_You_ shall not permit me… ?" Tim asked him in a teasing voice, raising his eyebrow as he, too, stood and stretched before rubbing Steph's shoulders for her as she stayed seated with her broken ankle.

"Indeed I shall not allow it," Damian said. "As your Robin, it would be most foolish of me to permit you to rely on such uncoordinated and ill-trained vagabonds."

One of Tim's hands was lingering on Stephanie's shoulder and he bent down and whispered something in her ear. When she nodded, he let her go with a final squeeze.

"Let's go spar," Tim said to Damian. "I think most of the excitement for the night is over."

"Very well," Damian said, carefully placing Osito into Tim's vacant seat. "You are wise to request my assistance. Perhaps you shall not be a complete failure as the Batman if you continue to seek help from your betters."

"Uh huh," Tim said, winking at Steph, who smiled back at him. Bruce watched the two boys head across the Cave to the practice mats before he sat back down next to Stephanie, giving her a slightly curious look. She stayed quiet for a minute, picking at her sleeve and looking at the floor.

"You seem down today," Bruce finally said to her. She glanced up at him and Bruce's heart clenched a little bit to see the sadness in her eyes.

"Yeah," Steph said softly. She swallowed. "Things have been kind of rough at school. For a long time, actually," she admitted, "but today was worse."

The guilt swirled and settled in Bruce's stomach like a lead weight. He knew he hadn't been paying attention like he should have been, but Steph always seemed so happy. And fine. He'd thought that out of all of his kids, she was the one who was the most well-adjusted. But, apparently, he'd been wrong about that, too.

"Tell me about it," he said gently. Steph sighed.

"Well, I get bullied a lot for being poor. And because of my parents," she said, turning a little red. "And because of Tim. Well, he gets bullied, too, but pretty much only about me." Bruce thought to himself that Tim and Steph were going to have to get over that part soon, but he kept quiet as Steph kept talking.

"Today, um," Steph turned bright red and couldn't look at Bruce. She covered her face with her hands.

"You don't have to tell me if it's too upsetting," Bruce said but Steph shook her head.

"I want to," she said. "It's just really embarrassing. Um, I was getting teased for being a virgin and they told me I should let this asshole popmycherrybecauseTimwasn'tmanenoughtodoit," she finished in a rush.

"Oh, hell no," Batman growled in the voice that made criminals crap their pants. "I will end those little shits," he said. "And their parents. Give me their names." Steph smiled and peeked out at him from under her hands.

"Harley said she'd take care of it," she said. "But her and Babs said I should tell you about it, anyway." Bruce's brain skipped a track. Because what was the point of telling him if he couldn't help? Steph took pity on his evident confusion.

"Harley said there's other ways for you to support me. Like with ice cream," she offered. "Or hugs, I guess," Steph added with a tiny, hopeful look in her eyes. The Dark Knight softened and scooted his chair closer to hers and pulled her into a tight hug against his chest, wrapping his arms around his daughter tight and holding her close. To his surprise, Steph snuggled into him like Damian had recently started doing, but quite unlike Damian, she began to cry.

_Oh, shit, _Bruce thought in panic as he continued to hold her. He awkwardly patted her back as all of the tears that Steph had been holding in for so long came rushing out. Not knowing what else to do and desperately wishing that Tim would come back over, Bruce continued to hold her without saying anything. _Daughters, _he thought to himself, but with a lot more fear than affection as his eyes frantically looked towards the sparring mat where Damian was unsurprisingly wiping the floor with Tim.

Bruce gritted his teeth and prayed that Steph's tears would end without dissolving into hysterics, because then he really would have to go get Tim and probably Alfred, too, and maybe even call Babs and it would be nice if he could get through one day when Bane wasn't around without feeling like the world's biggest parental failure. But, he realized after a few anxious minutes, Steph was actually beginning to sniff and calm down, and Bruce breathed a sigh of relief as he rubbed her back with the circling motion that seemed to soothe Damian.

"I love you, Bruce," Steph surprised him by saying as she pulled back a little bit from him and wiped her nose on her sleeve.

"I love you, too," Bruce said warmly, leaning over to grab a box of tissues which he handed to her. As Steph took a wad and started to blow her nose and wipe her face off, Bruce spoke.

"I know I'm not your real dad," he said, "but, I do care about being another dad to you. Even though I haven't been very good at it so far," he added regretfully. Steph gave him a watery smile.

"My real dad wasn't very good at it, either," she pointed out wryly. "At least you haven't gone to prison," she said. Bruce smiled at her.

"I'd like to raise the bar a little above staying out of jail," he said teasingly.

"You are," Steph told him quietly. "You never used to ask me how I was doing."

"Yeah," Bruce muttered in embarrassment, looking down. "I'm sorry."

"It's ok," Steph said as she balled up her tissues. "You're learning. And you're trying, now, anyway." He nodded, feeling a lump in his throat.

"I could go fix you some ice cream," he offered as he blinked some tears away. Steph smiled.

"I'm ok for now," she said. "Ice cream was Harley's idea, actually, and it's decent, but you know what I really like?"

"What?" Bruce asked her curiously, because no, he really did not know, and that saddened him.

"Waffles," Steph said with a hungry gleam in her eye.

"Waffles?" Bruce asked her, wrinkling his brow.

"Belgian waffles," Steph explained. "The kind you make in a waffle iron? That you flip over to start cooking? And you eat them with strawberries and whipped cream?"

"Oh," Bruce said, starting to smile. "Do we have a waffle maker?" he asked her. Steph nodded. "Then tomorrow you need to teach me how to make them," Bruce said, and the warmth of Steph's smile melted away his lingering low self-esteem as she leaned forward to hug him tight.

As he hugged her back, Bruce said, "Tim likes you, too, you know."

"What?!" Stephanie said, jerking away from him in shock and blushing. Bruce grinned at her.

"But since I'm one of your dads, it's my job to tell you not to have sex with him until you're sure you're ready," he said.

"Agh!" Steph cried, blushing even more furiously and covering her face again. Bruce chuckled but he poked her arm.

"I'm serious," he said. "Fuck those kids at your school. You wait as long as you want. Tim'll date you without sex," he said. "Any good boyfriend should. Ok?" he said. "It's your body and your decision. Always."

"Ok," Steph mumbled, still hiding behind her hands.

"But always use a condom," Bruce went on.

"Oh, my God," Steph moaned.

"And let me know when you want a GYN appointment for birth control and I'll get Babs to take you," he said.

"Stop," Steph said to him. "Really. I get it. Thank you. Message heard and received."

"Ok," Bruce said. He paused for a minute. "You don't have to wait for him to ask you out, you know," he added. "It's not the 1950's anymore." Steph cautiously lifted her head and looked at him.

"You're sure he likes me, too?" she asked him. "Like that?"

"Hell, yeah," Bruce said with a little laugh. "Since you were Spoiler." Steph's jaw dropped open and she stared at him. Bruce grinned. "I figured you two would work it out eventually," he said. "But since you're sad…" he shrugged. "Maybe that nugget of information cheers you up a little?" he said playfully.

"You're a great dad," Steph said to him sincerely.

"I'm getting there," Bruce said, and he actually believed it.


	22. Chapter 22

_A/N In case you missed it, I added a few paragraphs to Ch. 20 from Bruce's POV regarding his growing feelings for Bane. It's not essential to go back and reread that chapter, but in case you want to, now you know. _

_**Chapter 22**_

Deadshot looked at the clock on the wall for the thousandth time and sighed loudly. Harley, still in the Batgirl suit, looked over at him as he sat beside her on the uncomfortable waiting room chairs.

"You don't have to stay with me," she said to him kindly. "I don't mind waitin' by myself for the surgeons to finish."

"Honey, you know damn well I ain't gonna leave you with your back uncovered," Floyd said mildly, reaching his hand out to rub her cowl-covered head affectionately before draping his arm over her shoulders and tugging her into a hug as he stretched his long legs out.

"I just wish they'd hurry up," he grumbled. "We've been here the whole damn night."

"Well, they have to reattach his hand to his wrist," Harley pointed out as she leaned her head into his shoulder. "I don't know nothin' about surgery, but that seems pretty complicated to me." Floyd snorted.

"I still say you shoulda left it off," he pouted. "He coulda got himself a hook. He'd have been all right."

"Floyd," Harley said in exasperation.

"It was his left hand," Floyd persisted. Harley rolled her eyes. "You have to admit, having Croc bite his hand off was a good plan, though," Floyd said with a twinkle in his eye.

"It was a great plan," Harley grinned. "Although I don't think Croc is gonna agree with us on that."

"He did his part, though," Floyd said. "Shit, when he chomped on Fugit's arm, I about died laughing. I wish we got that on video," he said and Harley giggled.

"It was pretty funny," she said. "Terrible," she added more seriously. "A terrible necessity. But funny as hell," she said, dissolving into giggles again. "Ooh," she said, perking up suddenly. "Maybe the Batkid can find a video feed that caught it. Like on a street camera or something," she said. "I'd love to send that to Jay. I'll ask him," she said, pulling her phone out to text Tim.

"So tell me about this hubby of yours," Floyd said as she typed. "Dude seems like a badass," he grinned. "Hard to believe he's related to the Bat," he added.

"I know, right?" Harley said, smiling. "And he's so great, Floyd. We get along so well," she said.

"How come?" Deadshot asked her, sounding genuinely curious.

"Well," Harley said thoughtfully as she put her phone back into the conveniently sized compartment on her Batbelt, "he's really smart. He loves to read. And I do, too," she said. "So we connect over that. And he's so domestic, Floyd. I love it. He cooks and cleans," she giggled.

"But it's because he never got to have a nice quiet life like that. And I didn't either, really, except for a few years after college when I was working at Arkham before everything went down with… you know," she muttered, and Floyd grunted an agreement.

"So we're both kind of homebodies, you know?" Harley said. "But we've got our messed up backstories and vigilante shit to connect over, too."

"That's nice," Floyd said sincerely and, maybe, a tad wistfully.

"You need to go see your baby mama and your little girl today," Harley said to him, suspecting where his thoughts were.

"Aw, no, honey, that can wait," Floyd said instantly. "I told you I'd work this week -" but Harley nudged his side with her elbow.

"Take tonight off," she insisted. "As long as you're back for our special project on Monday morning, we'll be fine. I got the other three, ok? You need to see your baby. And your woman," Harley said. Floyd sighed.

"I don't know if she's my woman or not," he said, sounding a little defeated. "I mean," he said, "Gabi's been amazing sending all the photos and letters the last few years," he said. "But they're mostly about Kiara. She ain't never said if she was dating anybody or not."

"So go find out," Harley said, looking up at him and seeing the pain etched on his face. Floyd looked down at her.

"I don't even know if we got anything in common like you and the Hood do," he admitted. "I mean, besides the fact that I like to drink and she's a bartender," he said with a wry smile.

"You have Kiara," Harley said. "Maybe that's enough, Floyd. You guys liked each other well enough to hook up more than once way back when."

"Yeah," Floyd said, his eyes losing focus but his lips curling up into a more genuine smile as he thought back to meeting Gabrielle in a run-down Star City bar. "I mean, yeah, I liked her a lot. And I would've gone back to see if we could make it work when she told me she was pregnant if I hadn'ta got myself arrested like a little punk."

"Nightwing's kind of a vindictive bitch," Harley said comfortingly, patting Floyd's leg. "And we all have days when shit goes sideways. If it hadn't happened in Bludhaven you'd have been all right."

"Yeah," Floyd muttered with a sigh. "Maybe it was worth it now that I got pardoned, though," he said after a minute. "For my baby girl. You know?" he said to Harley. "Now I can at least be in her life even if Gabi's moved on. And Kiara's young enough she won't hate me yet for not being there."

"That's right," Harley said consolingly. "After we get done here, you should go on down to the bus station and head over there. Ok?" she said and despite the anxious tension in his stomach, Floyd nodded.

Back in the Batcave, Bruce had tucked the kids into bed hours ago, but he was sitting up scrolling through files on the Batcomputer as he passed the time waiting for Harley to return. God only knew how long she would be. Gotham General had a never-ending stream of emergency patients thanks to all the muggings in town and it had taken Steph half the night to get her ankle set when Bane had broken it. To reattach a hand… he sighed.

Because, try as he might, Bruce's mind was not really focused on his research. All he could think about was his fight with Bane. His own harsh words kept running through his head, attacking his happy memories of how close he'd felt to Bane the night before he left, during game night. When he'd started to feel a flutter of something unexpected but surprisingly not unwelcome. And now, all Bruce could hear was Bane's distress as he had treated him like utter shit on their unfortunate phone call.

_I could have at least let him explain, _Bruce thought guiltily. _Or get an apology out. Bane was wrong, but… _But, Bruce felt awful.

_I can't leave things like this for a week, _Bruce thought to himself. He picked his phone up. His fingers were hovering over the keys to text, but he hesitated. Was he too much of a coward to call? It was the wee hours of the morning, sure, but Bane and Jason were supposed to be trading off sleeping and driving so there was a fifty-fifty chance that Bane was awake.

Bruce took a deep breath, steeled his courage, and pressed the call button. The phone rang a few times and Bruce was about to chicken out and hang up before it went to voicemail when Bane suddenly answered.

"Bruce?" he heard his friend say hesitantly.

"Hi," Bruce said softly.

"Is everything all right?" Bane asked him with some concern. "Harley, the children? Did something happen?"

"No, everyone's fine," Bruce said quickly. He paused. "Except me," he sighed. "I was such an ass to you and I feel like shit about it," he said.

"Bruce," Bane said with some wonder in his voice. "I am the one who should apologize, my friend," he said with true regret. "I should not have hid the truth from you."

"No, you shouldn't have," Bruce said. "But I didn't have to go all Batman on you about it," he admitted and Bane's soft chuckle brought an answering relieved smile to Bruce's lips.

"Yes, I seem to recall you passing the Batman mantle onto me," Bane teased him. "Although I have yet to master that level of ferocious verbal intimidation that you possess."

"I'm sorry," Bruce said immediately, rubbing his hand through his hair. "I was angry, and hurt…"

"I know," Bane said quietly. "I am sorry, too, my friend, for causing you such hurt."

"I know," Bruce said back. He pulled Bane's NewFriendHopefullyForever bracelet out of his pants pocket and began fiddling with it. "Why didn't you tell me you were going to kill Harley's stepdad?" he asked, even though he suspected that he might already know the answer. There was a moment of silence on the other end of the line.

"I suppose," Bane said slowly, "that I was afraid of your reaction."

"That I would be angry?" Bruce asked him. "Or fire you?"

"No," Bane said. "Not that. Not truly. I was afraid… that you would think less of me," he finished with a slight tremor in his voice that hit Bruce like a punch to the gut.

"You care what I think of you?" Bruce asked him as a ridiculously giddy smile started to dance about on his lips. Bane huffed out some air in a self-deprecating chuckle.

"I do," he said, and Bruce hoped that the fondness and longing that he heard in Bane's voice wasn't a product of his own imaginative desires.

"Mm," Bruce grunted, still smiling to himself. "Well. What I think about you is that I miss you like hell and I can't stand fighting with you." He heard Bane's sharp intake of breath on the other end of the line.

"I am… pleased to hear that," Bane said in a slightly shaky voice, relief mingling with surprised happiness. Bruce clutched his friendship bracelet tightly in his hand.

"Hurry up and come home," he said affectionately.

"I am stepping harder on the gas pedal now," Bane said with a little laugh.

Bruce laughed, too, but he said, "Don't get pulled over. Billionaire Bruce Wayne does not need his dead son and Bane calling him for bail money."

"I imagine that would be quite the challenge to explain to the press," Bane said playfully.

"Be safe," Bruce told him more seriously.

"We will," Bane answered. "And… I miss you, too, Bruce."

"Good," Bruce grunted, but his eyes were shining as he said it.

It was hours later before an exhausted Harley came zooming into the BatCave on the BatCycle, her yellow cape fluttering sharply behind her. As she screeched to a stop, Bruce got up to go greet her.

"Bruce!" Harley said in surprise as she got off of the motorcycle and saw him walking over from the BatComputer. "You waited up for me? I was only at the hospital and Floyd was with me."

"Of course I waited up for you," Bruce said gruffly. "You're my daughter and my Batgirl," he said, and Harley's breath caught in her throat as an unfamiliar emotion filled her heart. Because when had Harley ever had a parent who gave a shit about her? Maybe Bruce was a little bit better of a dad than Harley had given him credit for. She sniffed as some tears snuck up on her and she quickly stepped forward to hide them in Bruce's shoulder while she gave him a tight hug. He wrapped his arms around her and hugged her back.

"How did everything go with Tempus?" he asked her after a minute when she finally stepped back with a fragile and slightly shy smile.

"Pretty good," she said, rubbing her nose on Batgirl's sleeve. "They got the hand back on, finally. And they think the operation went ok. But he's gonna need some time for it to heal before they even let him try to move it and then he'll need a ton of PT. But he's got a good chance of regaining full use, they said."

"That's good," Bruce said sincerely and she nodded.

"Yeah, I'm relieved," she said. "I hated we had to go that route, but hey, it worked," she smiled. Bruce shook his head.

"Your Suicide Squad nearly gave me a stroke," he said. "That's how you always operate?"

"Pretty much," Harley said with a grin. "We ain't heroes, Brucie. Villains do things a little differently."

"So I saw," Bruce grumbled, but his eyes were still soft and affectionate as he said it. "I called Bane," he said as he walked her back towards the computer. "We worked things out."

"Bruce!" Harley said with pleasure. "That's fantastic! I'm so proud of you," she said, smiling up at him. He smiled a little self-consciously.

"Me, too," he said quietly. "I couldn't leave things how they were."

"I notice you're wearing your bracelet again," Harley teased and Bruce's cheeks actually reddened the tiniest bit, but he just grunted. With a tiny upturn at the corner of his mouth.

The bus from Gotham to Star City rolled in about four p.m. and twenty minutes later, Floyd Lawton was standing nervously in front of the apartment that was listed as the return address on the latest letter from Gabrielle. He took a deep breath and knocked on the door. He heard footsteps and saw an eye peer out at him from the peephole before the locks started to turn.

"Floyd!" Gabi said in shock as she opened the door and stared at him, eyes wide and jaw hanging slightly open. "Come in, come in," she said quickly, pulling him inside and shutting the door behind him. "Did you escape?" she asked him nervously as she turned the locks as fast as she could and put the chain back on the door.

"I got pardoned," Floyd said, pulling the crumpled print-out of the official notice out of his jacket pocket and handing it to her as he tried to swallow down all the emotions that he was feeling. Gabi looked good. She still had the sexiness that had first drawn him to her, and Floyd felt his cock stir because Arkham had been a long dry spell. But it was more than her sex appeal drawing him in, now. She'd had his baby and that made her look like a damn angel in his eyes.

He hadn't been there to see her belly swell or to hold her hand while she was in labor and he felt the full force of his regret as well as his admiration and appreciation for her as she looked over his pardon in stunned silence.

"Wow," she finally said quietly, handing the paper back to him. Her big brown eyes looked up at him, blinking rapidly. "I, um, I don't even know what to say," she said.

"I'm getting paid now," Floyd told her, "for some merc work I've been doing for the government. I just got a ton of back pay so I can take care of you and Kiara, now," he said, "and I got health insurance, too. I put Kiara on it and I can buy you some Obamacare if you need it," he said, looking into her eyes that were starting to fill up with some tears. Gabi cleared her throat.

"That's amazing," she said quietly. "Thank you, Floyd. Things have been rough," she said, looking away. "I mean, we're getting by. But…"

"I should have been here," Floyd said in frustration. "Fuck, I'm so sorry I wasn't, Gab. How's Kiara?" he asked her, looking around the small but tidy apartment and not seeing his baby.

"She's napping," Gabi said with a little smile, glancing back at him. "She'll be up soon."

"I loved all the pictures you sent," Floyd said with tenderness creeping into his smile. "They kept me going, Gab," he said, and his voice came out thicker with emotion than he intended. Gabi gave him a little nod, her eyes looking suspiciously wet, too.

"Your hair looks pretty," Floyd said to her, eyeing her multitude of tiny long braids appreciatively, which were a change from the last time he'd seen her when her hair had been in short curls.

"Don't touch it," Gabi laughingly warned him and he held his hands up in defense.

"I remember," he said with a grin. "What is that, a weave?"

"Very good, white boy," Gabi teased him.

"Are you seeing anybody?" Floyd burst out, not able to hold back the question any longer that had been eating him up during the hours long ride on the smelly and crowded bus from Gotham. Gabi's eyes shot up to his.

"No," she murmured softly, causing Floyd's heart to lurch with hope. "No, um, I ended up with a baby the last time, so…" she looked down for a minute. "I wanted to focus on me and her for a couple of years while I figured things out," she said.

"You think you might want to start seeing me again?" Floyd asked her with heated eyes as he slowly closed the space between them and reached a hand out to caress her waist. Gabi looked back up into his eyes.

"I really like you," he said, gently bringing his other hand up to her waist when she didn't back away. "And we've got Kiara," he said, leaning forward to brush a soft kiss against her jaw as she closed her eyes. "We could be a family," he cajoled her, moving his lips to press a kiss to the corner of her mouth. His heart did a happy flip when he felt Gabi smile.

"We could try," she said, sliding her hands up his chest to frame his face as she met his eyes. "We barely know each other, though," she said and Floyd sighed.

"I know, honey," he said with regret. "But we can change that." The open look on her face and soft smile on her lips was all the encouragement that Floyd needed to press a tender kiss into her mouth, and as his hands slid to her back to hold her closer, Gabi's hands reached around to hang onto his neck as they deepened the kiss.

Their previous hook-ups had been defined by flirtatious banter and a scorching attraction to each other and, as such, had been intensely, sexually, passionate. But this time, the couple's kiss was sweeter and even tentative as they gently re-explored each other's mouth and tried to work out who they now were to each other.

Still, not more than a minute passed before the three years of longing that Floyd had felt for Gabi broke through and he was kissing her like a thirsty man in the desert. Gabi was returning his kisses with equal fervor, her hands clinging tighter to him and her fingers running through his hair. She moaned happily as his hands slid down to cup her curvy ass and she pulled her lips off of his to nuzzle them into his neck.

"I missed you," she said and Floyd thought that his heart would burst right out of his chest.

"It killed me every day to not be here," he said to her. "God, Gabi, I wanted so bad to be with you. Not just for Kiara," he said. "I wanted you," he said, turning his face to kiss her temple and a happy whimper escaped her throat as she pressed herself tighter into his chest.

"We can make it work, right?" Floyd asked her as he cuddled her closer.

"Yeah," Gabi murmured into his stubbled cheek. "We'll figure it out." She laughed softly. "It's not like any other man will touch me, anyway, once they hear I'm Deadshot's baby mama," she teased.

"Damn straight," Deadshot replied with a proud smirk. "You and Kiara are gonna be the two safest girls in Star City."

"I pity her when she's old enough to date," Gabi said.

"I pity the boys," Floyd growled.

"Or girls," Gabi said. Floyd paused.

"Is it really awful if I'd be more angry about her having sex with boys than with girls?" he asked. "Boys are filthy animals."

"Girls can be, too," Gabi protested. "Or did you forget who exactly you knocked up?" she said with a twinkle in her eye. Floyd grinned.

"Remind me," he said with a wicked smile before leaning in to nip at her ear. Gabi gave a quiet yelp and would have attacked him back, but soft cries from the bedroom interrupted them. Floyd froze instantly.

"Can I see her?" he asked with eager excitement and Gabi's smile lit the room up.

"Come on, daddy," she said, disentangling herself from his arms only to grab his hand and pull him along with her into the apartment's single bedroom. Floyd held his breath as they entered the dim room lit only by the afternoon sun attempting to beat its way through the closed shade. Gabi moved to turn on a small penguin-shaped lamp next to the crib instead of the bright overhead light and Floyd's heart melted as he saw his daughter in person for the first time.

"Hey, baby girl," Gabi was crooning to Kiara, who was standing up holding onto the side of the crib. Her tears had reduced to sniffles as soon as Gabi entered the room but Floyd's tears had started to flow profusely as he gulped and came slowly forward.

"Mama!" Kiara said, reaching her little arms up towards her to be picked up.

"Guess who's here?" Gabi said to her as she scooped her up and snuggled her into her side. "This is your daddy, baby girl." Kiara was looking at Floyd curiously from the safety of Gabi's arms.

"We kiss a picture of you good-night every bedtime," Gabi told him. "And we pray for God to bless Daddy, too, don't we, baby girl?" she asked Kiara, who nodded with her fingers in her mouth. Floyd closed his eyes briefly as gratitude to his generous baby mama flowed through him.

"Hi, baby girl," he managed to choke out a second later as he reached a finger towards his daughter. "Look at you," he breathed in wonder. "You're so adorable," he said as he gently stroked the back of her teeny little hand with the tip of his finger, not wanting to initiate too much contact and scare her.

"Daddy make pictures?" Kiara asked. Floyd caught his breath. Gabi smiled over at him.

"She loves the pictures you always draw her with your letters. She colors them and we keep them together in a folder. Here, let's show Daddy, ok, baby?" And with that, Gabi handed Kiara off to Floyd who looked terrified but amazed at he nervously gripped his baby in his hands.

"How do I, how do I hold her?" he asked in a panic. "I don't want to drop her," he said.

"She's ok," Gabi said. "She's two, she can hold her head up on her own. You won't break her," she said, pushing Kiara a little more into Floyd's side and helping him scootch his arm under her butt to hold her up. Kiara was not crying but Floyd was as he smiled into her chubby little face.

"Why Daddy crying?" Kiara asked her mommy. "Why you sad, Daddy?"

"I missed you," Floyd said, bending to press a kiss into her curly black hair and breathing in her sweet baby smell. "I missed you and your mommy so much," he added, feeling hardly able to breathe with the joy that was overwhelming him.

"Come sit on the couch," Gabi said, pushing him back towards the living room. "I'll get her pictures out." As Floyd sat down and cuddled his baby girl, who seemed fascinated with his facial hair and was busy patting his mustache, Gabi pulled out a folder full of wrinkled sheets of notebook paper that was all that Floyd had had to write and draw on in Arkham.

He had filled a page up with line drawings of animals in each letter he'd sent to his girls and he smiled to see that Kiara had enthusiastically scribbled each of them with crayon.

"Those are beautiful," he said to her as Gabi sat next to him and held up the different pictures. "You did a good job on them, baby girl," he said to her. "You gonna be an artist, maybe, when you grow up?" he asked her.

"I gon' be Elmo," she announced. "Or his goldfishie. Maybe his fishie. So I can live in the bathtub."

"That is excellent logic," Floyd chuckled. "You like taking baths?" he asked her and she nodded and Gabi laughed.

"She loves to play in the tub," she said. "But you can't ever leave her alone in there; little kids can drown in seconds," she said.

"Ok," Floyd said, looking over at her. "You're gonna have to teach me everything, baby," he said to Gabi, the endearment slipping out, but the warmth in Gabi's eyes said that she didn't mind.

"Are you… do you want to move in?" she asked him hesitantly. "We don't got much room here, but we could move the crib into the living room," she said.

"I'd love to move in," Floyd said, letting go of Kiara with his left hand so he could reach his arm up and over Gabi's shoulders. "But we can get a bigger apartment if you want," he said. "I have suddenly become a wealthy man."

"Well, maybe just a two-bedroom," Gabi said. "Nothing fancy. Don't want that money running out too fast."

"Whatever you want," Floyd said, tracing her arm with his fingers. "I have a gig in Gotham for the rest of the week, gotta head back over there tomorrow afternoon. But then I'm off until the next government gig comes up."

"Ok," Gabi said. "I've gotta tend bar tonight," she said. "I guess… you can come if you want?" she told him. "Kiara sleeps over at my neighbor's the nights I work until I get home." Floyd grunted.

"They're all right people?" he asked and Gabi gave him a look.

"Do you think I would leave my baby girl with someone who wasn't?" she asked him pointedly. "Marissa is a single mom like me. She's got two kids and yes, she's fine. I watch her kids during the week when she works and she watches Kiara the nights I work. It's the only way we can both hold down a job. Goddamn cost of childcare," she muttered. "Thank God I work a night shift," she added.

"Are you still in school?" Floyd asked her, remembering that Gabi had been a part-time student when he met her, tending bar to pay her way through. She sighed and shook her head.

"I had to drop out," she said and Floyd groaned as Kiara wiggled her legs to get down and play.

"I'm sorry, honey," he said as Kiara went wandering over to her toy cars. "Shit."

"Hey," Gabi said to him. "Having her was my choice, ok? I knew you'd be in Arkham and I knew I'd have to make sacrifices." Floyd still looked guilty.

"You can go back to college now," he said, squeezing her shoulders. "I have plenty to pay for it. And I can watch the kids," he said. "When I'm not working. And we can pay a baby-sitter the weeks I get called up." Gabi's face softened and she leaned up and gave him a kiss.

"I'll think about it," she said. "Maybe only a class at a time. It's freakin' exhausting being a mom," she said and Floyd kissed her.

"I bet it is," he said. "And you've done a damn good job at it, Gabs. She's perfect." Gabi laughed.

"Wait til she's screaming at three in the afternoon and won't go down for her nap and then tell me that," she said. "But yeah. She's my everything," she said, her eyes full of love as they looked across the room at their daughter who was calmly having a T-rex flip her cars off the road.

"She's my everything, too," Floyd said honestly. "And I'm gonna stay out of trouble from now on," he promised. "Well…" he amended. "I might still take some solo jobs," he admitted, "but, I'll be a hell of a lot more careful," he said.

"Floyd…" Gabi said with a little growl.

"Harley's gonna approve all my contracts," Floyd said, giving her a pleading look. "I won't ki- um, take on anybody who doesn't have it coming," he said, carefully editing his speech for his daughter's ears. Gabi let out an annoyed huff.

"If it's not legal, you're gonna end up back in prison, Floyd!" she said. "No. Just, no. We're not getting back together if you're gonna be doing off the books shit."

"Babe -" Floyd started, but Gabi shook her head.

"Uh-uh. You want to build a life with us, and for me to let you in, you gotta walk the line. Otherwise," she said, "you can see Kiara, but I'm not going to be with you." Floyd let out a frustrated groan.

"I like - my job," he said. "My private job. Aside from the government work." Gabi shrugged.

"So go do it," she said. "But you won't be doing me." Floyd cursed under his breath and hit his head back against the wall.

"Fine," he muttered. "I won't do it anymore."

"I don't want you around with an attitude either," Gabi said. "If you're gonna resent the shit out of me, that's not cool and not a reason for me to be with you." Floyd sighed.

"Look, you have a daughter now," Gabi said to him. "I liked going to college. I was gonna make something of my life besides being a bartender. But something more important came along. So what's most important to you, Floyd?"

"You and Kiara," he said without hesitation. "It's just… I spent my whole life getting good at one thing and making a name for myself…"

"Can't the government pay you to do that, too? Seems like there's tons of people they want de- taken care of." Floyd chewed his lip.

"Maybe. Yeah, maybe," he said. "I'll talk to Waller about it. Via Harley," he corrected himself. "God, that warden is a bitch and a half," he said. "You know, she only got me on the merc squad in the first place by threatening you and Kiara's lives."

"What." Gabi said flatly.

"Hell, yeah," Floyd said. "Amanda Waller is a stone-cold bitch. Blackmailed her prisoners into running suicide missions for her precious little black ops group. Harley fixed her good, though," he smirked. "Got us pardons and pay and we get to keep doing what we're good at. So, maybe Harley can force Waller to hook me up with some legal contracts, too," he said.

"Good," Gabi said. "I'm not trying to tell you to stop doing what you love, Floyd, but I can't let you romance me knowing you could end up back in jail any minute. I can't do that again."

"Ok," Floyd said in a gentler voice. "I know that's fair," he said. "Even if I don't like it. You're right." He paused. "What about vigilante stuff? If it was on the hero side? Green Arrow gets away with it, right? Would you mind if he let me help out around town in between gigs?" Gabi frowned as she thought.

"I mean… if he worked it out with the police so you wouldn't get in any trouble, then yeah, that's ok," she said.

"Ok," Deadshot said with some relief. "I'll have the Bat give him a call and set up a meeting for me to talk to him."

"Ok," Gabi said, snuggling back into his side. She slid her eyes up to him. "You said you can stay the night?"

"Yeah," he said, looking down at her as a seductive smile started to spread across his face.

"Then come help me move that crib out here," she said with a grin. "Mommy and Daddy need the bedroom to themselves tonight." Floyd was more than happy to comply.


	23. Chapter 23

**Chapter 23**

Steph's stomach was in knots as Alfred drove her and Tim to school on Monday morning. She knew that Harley had promised to take care of her bullies for her, but Harley hadn't mentioned any progress on that front yet, having slept all day on Saturday after spending the night at the hospital with Clockmaster, and then crashing again on Sunday when she got home from patrol in the early hours of the morning. She had slept even longer than Bruce that afternoon and then spent most of the day in her room, where Steph had heard her murmuring on the phone to Jason each time that she had happened past her closed door.

It was obvious that Harley was missing her husband pretty badly after a few days without him and it had to be stressful, too, to know that her rapist was about to be killed. Even if it was what she wanted, Harley was surely having a lot of old memories stirred up and she not only didn't have Jason at her side, but she was patrolling as Batgirl on top of it.

So Steph hadn't wanted to pester her about progress on the bullying. She figured that Harley would get to it when she could and in the meantime, she and Tim would do their best to stand up against it.

Steph used to think that she was strong enough to handle anything; her father was Cluemaster, for Pete's sake, and her mom was a drug addict. Steph had been frickin' Spoiler, too, and now she was Batgirl. And for the last two years, she'd been able to put up with the jibes about her and Tim's romance or lack thereof, and her social status, and everything else the rich snots could throw at her.

Hell, she usually got a few good verbal jabs back herself and tossed her hair and stuck close to Tim during the school day, and afterwards? Training hard got her aggression and frustration out and patrolling with Batman boosted her self-esteem. She had been doing all right, Steph thought to herself.

Until Friday when they had started going in on her virginity and sexually harassing her, and even though Steph had hated herself for it and wanted to be as coolly unaffected as she pretended to be during the other bouts of bullying, she had ended up paralyzed and trapped by shame. She frowned as the limo drew closer to Gotham Prep and Tim reached over sympathetically to rub her arm.

"I'm here," he said. "We're prepared today, ok?" he said quietly enough that Alfred couldn't hear from the front seat. Because Tim had been paralyzed, too, on Friday and afterwards he felt, if possible, even worse than Steph did over his failure to stand up for her and get their asshole classmates to back off.

He and Steph had had a long heart-to-heart after school on Friday afternoon before joining Bruce and Damian for training. Even though Steph had reassured Tim that he'd been as victimized as she was by the taunting over his own virginity, and while he believed her that she forgave him (although she actually had insisted that there was nothing to forgive), Tim still hated himself for having been so tongue-tied in the moment.

"Batpower," Steph whispered when Alfred pulled up to the school entrance and Tim nodded.

"Bye, Alfred," they said as they exited the car. "Thanks for the ride."

"I shall see you this afternoon," Alfred smiled at them.

Steph and Tim walked side by side to their classroom, Steph swinging on her crutches, and Steph took a deep breath as Tim opened the door and she headed inside. Their teacher Mr. Mendel hadn't arrived yet, Steph noted with an internal groan, and the hissing and murmuring increased as she and Tim made their way to their seats.

They always sat next to each other in the front row; Tim because he was eager to be as close to the teacher as possible so that he could ask questions and soak up information (and correct the teacher's infrequent mistakes) and Steph simply because she wanted to be next to Tim.

"Aw, here's the two little virgins," Brad said, getting up from his seat to hover behind Steph and Tim's chairs.

"Shut up, Brad," Tim said viciously.

"Ooo, you manning up, Drake? Did you pop that cherry this weekend?" Brad teased, bending down to stick his face right between Tim and Steph's heads.

Without a word to Tim, Steph flung her left forearm up and smashed her closed fist into Brad's cheekbone. Hard. Which was definitely not the survival plan that she and Tim had come up with over the weekend.

"You _bitch!_" Brad snarled, staggering backwards in shock before lunging forward to grab Steph. At least, that was his intention, but Steph hadn't waited for him to advance before jumping up on her good foot and kicking her chair backwards into his knees with her cast covered one. Tim was on his feet a second later but Steph was already pummeling Brad's face with full-on Batgirl force.

Brad was too surprised to react at first but by the time the fourth or fifth blow hit him he tried to throw a punch, but Tim grabbed his arm and twisted it behind him while Steph continued to attack.

"Steph," Tim said in concern as she showed no signs of letting up and Brad started thrashing and kicking to try to throw Tim off of him. Tim could take him, sure. But… this was going way beyond the dozen or so well-worded insults that he and Steph had crafted for their retaliation efforts. Would it compromise their secret identities, he began to nervously wonder, if both he and Steph suddenly demonstrated a remarkable aptitude for hand-to-hand combat?

"Behind you," Tim barked out, because Brad's boy Winston had gotten up and was advancing on Steph.

"Watch the door," Winston snapped at his girlfriend Chloe, who had been Steph's original tormentor on Friday. "We need to teach these bitches a lesson."

Steph whirled to face him, leaving Tim to try to contain Brad without breaking his cover as the unskilled and awkward computer nerd that his classmates all thought that he was. Winston was closing in fast on Steph when he suddenly froze in his tracks.

Steph didn't pause and moved forward to hit him anyway, putting her weight on her broken ankle exactly like she wasn't supposed to. Winston fell backwards but went scrambling towards the classroom door instead of launching himself at Steph.

It wasn't until she saw Chloe nervously bolting away from the door and blocking Winston's approach that Steph turned around. Her jaw fell open as a black-clad man in a ski mask calmly fired Captain Cold's ice gun and froze a solid sheet of ice over the door, paying particular attention to frosting over the window so that no one could see in.

The rest of the Suicide Squad, minus Harley, it appeared, was climbing through the now open classroom window despite the fact that the room was on the second floor of the building. Like Snart, they were dressed in black and wearing ski masks over their faces, although that didn't do much to hide Croc's big lizard feet and snout or Killer Frost's blue skin or Deadshot's wrist magnums and assortment of other guns.

The kids in the class began to scream so Deadshot fired a round of bullets into the ceiling.

"Shut up!" he yelled at them all. Apparently the whimpering and delayed reaction screams weren't a satisfactory level of quiet because he shot the room up again while Killer Frost moved to the front of the class and screamed three times louder.

"Shut. The Fuck. Up!" Frost glared at all of the students. "Stupid punkass rich bitches," she yelled. "When someone shows up with a gun, you do what that motherfucker says."

"Kids today," Killer Croc grumbled, lumbering over to Mr. Mendel's desk and hopping up to sit on top of it. "No respect for bullets."

"And that's why school is in session," Captain Cold drawled. "Because I hear that you little shits need an education." The teenagers, to their credit, hadn't moved since crouching under their desks or on the floor after the second round of bullets, although they were trading nervous teary-eyed glances with each other.

"No phones," Deadshot snapped, seeing some kids trying to call 911 or livestream. "Turn them off, right now." Daria Volokhov apparently didn't turn her phone off fast enough for his liking, because he shot it out of her hand, causing more screams to erupt around the classroom.

"Do. I need. To freeze your damn. mouths. shut." Killer Frost asked in a lethal tone as she began stalking around the classroom grabbing phones from students and tossing them into the trashcan.

"Maybe you should shoot one of them, D, to make an example," Snart said with a smirk.

"No!" Tim burst out, breaking eye contact with Steph to face Captain Cold head on.

"Who the fuck are you?" Snart asked him. "Give me your name, soldier."

"Tim Drake," Tim muttered, clenching his jaw and wondering what the hell Harley was up to.

Because if shooting students up was her plan to get them to back off of Steph, there was going to be hell to pay at the mansion tonight when Bruce found out. Not to mention the fact that the Suicide Squad had just gotten pardoned for their crimes and Tim was pretty sure that drawing blood on their classmates, even if they were bullying assholes, was going to get the gang sent back to Arkham, despite - or because of - their shoddy disguises. So seriously, what the fuck was going on?

Steph was looking more thoughtful than perturbed, although she was still breathing a tiny bit harder than normal from beating the shit out of Brad. Her exertion level had been minimal compared to what she was used to when she sparred with Bruce and Damian and Tim and fought baddies on patrol, but the adrenaline rush of power from standing up to her tormentor had her heart rate pumping in excitement.

"Oh, Tim Drake," Snart said with pleasure. "Come up here," he said, motioning him forward with a finger. "And where is Stephanie Brown?" he asked.

"Here," Steph said, fighting back a smile.

"Ah," Leonard said. "A pleasure to meet you," he said, giving her a gentlemanly bow. "Leonard Snart, at your service. And may I present Floyd Lawton, Waylon Jones, and Louise Lincoln," he said as he gestured to Deadshot, Killer Croc, and Killer Frost, respectively.

"Hi," Steph said, raising an eyebrow. "What are you doing here?" she asked Leonard.

He picked her crutches up and held them out to her before escorting her to stand at the front blackboard next to Tim, which conveniently positioned them safely behind Killer Croc, who nodded at them respectfully over his shoulder before returning his reptilian leer to the other students as he casually swung his legs against the edge of the teacher's desk.

Before Snart could answer Steph, the classroom intercom began blaring as the Headmaster's panicked voice announced, "Code Blue! Code Blue! Everyone inside their classrooms and lock the doors! I repeat -" Floyd rolled his eyes and shot up the speaker, quieting the classroom back to a dim hum of muffled whimpers and tears.

"An excellent question," Snart said approvingly to Steph as if they hadn't been interrupted. "As I was saying, you little shits," he sneered at her classmates, "it has come to our attention that you all are in need of an education."

"What the fuck for?" Winston blustered as Chloe whimpered and tried to get him to shut up.

"You lack Gotham pride," Snart smirked. "I ask you, Deadshot, what happens to Gothamites in this town who disrespect the rogues?"

"They get dead," Floyd replied with an evil grin.

"They get dead," Leonard answered. He clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth. "Absolutely shocking that your rich-ass parents pay for this pretentious private education and haven't instilled in you that good old Gotham grit that can save your life. Frosty, give us the word of the day."

"Common sense," she spat out. Floyd rolled his eyes.

"That's two words, dumbass," he said.

"Then Snart should have put an 's' on words," she snapped back.

"We distinctly discussed having a _word_, singular, of the day," Snart frowned. "You were there."

"Then how the fuck did we decide on 'common sense' as the words, plural, if we decided on a word, singular," she snarked at him.

"I didn't vote for common sense," Croc protested. "My choice was 'respect.'"

"That's a lameass word," Frost bitched. "Which is why we didn't pick it."

"Respect is integral to a cohesively functioning society," Croc growled at her. "How the fuck you gonna call that lameass?"

"It's lameass," Frost said, "Because you sound like a whiny little bitch if you say 'you bitches better respect me'," she mocked in a perfect imitation of said whiny bitch's voice. "But if you say, 'you motherfuckin fools ain't got no common sense!' - that don't make you sound like a pussy. Which is why you were outvoted," she said, putting her hand on her hip.

"Respect is one word," Croc snapped. "So if 'common sense' was the winner, how come Snart said _word_ of the day, singular, and not _words _of the day? Huh?" he asked her triumphantly.

"Because Captain Cold," Frost said, marching up to Snart so she could jab his forehead with her blue finger, "ain't got _no. common. sense._"

"Oh, my God!" Tim yelled in frustration. "Stop. Please. Shut up."

"Oh, baby boy, you ain't got nothin' to yell about," Frost said sweetly, giving him a wink. "We ain't here to teach you and your girl common sense."

Steph was sure that Tim was going to contradict Frost and say that Steph wasn't his girl. It was an automatic response at this point to all of the teasing that they received from their classmates. But, he didn't. Tim picked up Steph's hand in his and squeezed it while giving Frost a death glare that wasn't yet Dark Knight material, but easily could be in about five years.

Frost cackled and turned back to the cowering and crying students who looked like they couldn't make up their minds if the in-fighting of the Suicide Squad was a positive or a negative factor for their fates.

"Right! Back to business," Deadshot said. "Captain, if you would."

"As we were saying," Snart continued as calmly as if the Suicide Squad hadn't spent the last five minutes bickering like children, "the _words_ of the day are 'common sense.' Now, I ask you spoiled rich children, does it demonstrate common sense to sexually harass the daughter of an Arkham rogue?"

Brad, who was quietly moaning in pain while trying to wipe off his bloody nose, tensed. Winston hissed as Chloe dug her fingers into his shoulder in a panic.

"What, did she go crying to daddy?" said Winston, who apparently possessed not even a shred of common sense. "Stephanie the snitch," he snickered.

"Shut up!" Chloe hissed at him, smacking his shoulder hard.

"What are they gonna do?" Winston laughed, shoving Chloe backwards off of him.

"First of all," Snart said, eyeing Winston up, "Stephanie didn't snitch. She didn't need to. Or did you really think that her daddy wasn't keeping an eye on her," he asked with amusement as Croc chuckled in the background and Chloe got a little paler.

"What'd I tell ya?" Frost said, shrugging. "No common sense. None."

"Someone else snitched to him?" Winston growled, whirling his head around the room to glare at the rest of the students who were trying to fade into the background.

"Boy's never heard of hidden cameras?" Deadshot asked in disgust. "Why does being rich make you so goddamn stupid?" he asked no one in particular.

"Asshole," Deadshot called out to Winston. "Go stand up against the wall."

"Make me," Winston challenged, actually standing up and folding his arms regally across his chest. "You can't kill me," he said pretentiously, secure in the knowledge that his own daddy's money would protect him from all harm. "And your asses are already going straight back to Arkham for this." The words had barely left his mouth before Floyd shot a bullet right in front of his polished oxford shoe.

"Shit!" Winston said, jumping back and not even landing before Floyd's barrage of bullets to the floor continued driving him backwards to the very wall that Floyd had told him to stand against. Winston was breathing hard and looking more than a little frightened by the time his back hit the bulletin board and Floyd grinned and pulled his machine gun off of his back.

"It's time for art class," he said. "Better hold still, sucker," he laughed and immediately started firing, tracing Winston's outline around him with a steady stream of bullets barely an inch away from Winston's trembling body. A wet spot on the front of Winston's pants appeared as he panted in terror, finally losing his bravado and arrogance as Deadshot's steady hands continued shooting.

Croc, Frost, and Cold were laughing themselves silly watching the antics, but Steph and Tim were gripping each other's hands tightly. This was a little much, their eyes said to each other as they exchanged an anxious look.

"Now," Deadshot said when he finished his masterpiece, "where are the other bitches? Chloe? Brad?" he asked and Chloe burst into hysterical tears.

"Please don't hurt me! Don't shoot me!" she screamed. "I didn't mean it."

"Bitch, you totally meant it," Frost said, losing patience and striding forward to haul Chloe to her feet and shove her up against the back wall next to Winston. "And if you hold still, you won't get shot," she said. She grabbed Brad next and slammed him into place beside her.

"Light 'em up, D," she said, retaking her position at the front of the classroom, but Floyd frowned.

"Freeze the girl's hands and feet to the wall," he told Frost to Steph's great relief. Because as much as she hated Chloe, it was evident that the girl had lost control and was crying and flailing around way too much to stay safe, even with Deadshot's sharp shooting. Frost grumbled, but she shot out some ice beams to cuff Chloe's limbs.

"But Brad," Floyd drawled as he snugged his gun back into the crook of his shoulder, "you're on your own, ya punkass bitch."

"Did you bash his face in like that?" Croc asked Steph, turning around to face her as Floyd began shooting again.

"Yeah," she said with a proud little grin. "He started in on us again this morning and I was sick of it. Plus, I mean, he got right in our faces. He was asking for it."

"Nice work, girlie," Croc said with a wink. "Yer old man'll be proud," he said, but Steph lost her smile at that and Tim held her hand a little tighter and clenched his jaw.

"Is there anyone here who hasn't bullied you at all?" Leonard asked Tim and Steph quietly while Floyd kept outlining Brad and Chloe. The two teens looked at each other, thinking.

"Alana doesn't really, I guess," Steph said to Tim, who nodded.

"She hangs around the edges of them, but I think she's trying to avoid being a target herself," he said. "Dillon doesn't either," Tim said, thinking about the school's most gifted lacrosse player, who, surprisingly, was not an ass. "Not that he sticks up for us, but -"

"You know why he doesn't stick up for us," Steph said but Tim gave her a blank look. "He's gay," she whispered in Tim's ear. "They'll come for him."

"Oh!" Tim said, opening his eyes wide. Steph giggled and even amidst the chaos and racket of Deadshot's mayhem, Tim managed to smile back at her. When they looked back over at Snart, he and Croc were smiling at the the two teens fondly.

"Young love," Croc sighed. "I remember when June and I first met, we used to -"

"Hey!" Floyd yelled over to Croc and Snart in the sudden silence as his gun stopped firing. "Any innocents to evict?" Tim and Steph were both blushing furiously at Croc's words but they hadn't let go of each other's hands and Snart gave them a wink as he faced the class again.

"Alana and Dillon, get up here," he called out. The two students looked startled and stood up hesitantly, but once up, Alana went scampering quickly to Steph's side. Dillon walked a little more slowly, eyeing the Suicide Squad suspiciously, but he settled himself against the blackboard next to Alana, folding his arms across his chest and trying to look bored.

"Now, the rest of you have been found guilty of ongoing bullying, so you all got a little lesson coming. Deadshot, if you please," Captain Cold said grandly.

"Can I ask a question?" Dillon said suddenly, raising his hand.

"What's up, kiddo?" Floyd said.

"Can the new-anti bullying policy apply to me and Alana, too?" he asked, looking around to all four members of the Squad. "Because I'm gay and Alana's nice and we'd prefer not to be the new targets."

"Cluemaster's daughter? Your thoughts?" Floyd asked her, cocking his eyebrow up and she nodded as Snart got a proud smile on his face at Dillon's bold statement.

"Yes. Of course," Steph said. "None of us four get bullied or harassed from now on."

"Or next time," Frost said to their classmates with glee, "I'll be freezing fingers and toes off of ya. And not at school, either," she said with a sinister gleam in her eye.

"I've got an awesome idea," Floyd said suddenly. "Frosty, freeze the floor."

"Wait, why?" Tim said but she was already doing it. Floyd came behind the desk to pull the teacher's rolling chair out and he sat down in it after slinging his machine gun over his back. His held up his wrist magnums and grinned.

"Croc, give me a good push out on the ice and I'll shoot around the little brats as I go," Floyd grinned.

"How are you going to be accurate when you're sliding around on the ice?" Tim said in a panic.

"Child, I am Deadshot," Floyd said with pride. "Go!" he yelled at Croc who jumped off of the desk and gave him a mighty push in between the first two rows of desks. Floyd let loose with a holler and a whoop as he shot both guns in a seeming blur of bullets over and around and in between students as his chair circled and spun crazily until it hit the back wall with a bang.

The students were screaming and crying and the smell of shit and piss was in the air but Croc was belly laughing and Frost was cackling while even Snart had an amused smile on his face.

"Is anybody hurt?" Tim asked Steph nervously as they peered around the room without moving from their position of safety.

"I don't think so," she said back. She took a deep breath and let it out slowly as they watched Croc use his large toe claws to steady himself on the ice while walking out to Floyd so he could push him up the second aisle.

"Your dad must really care about you," Alana said to Steph quietly. "To send them here."

"I - I don't know," Steph said in surprised confusion, not willing to reveal that it was Harley who cared and made the plan because yes, in fact, Steph had snitched. "I didn't know he had cameras in here," she ended up saying. "I haven't even talked to him since he's been in Arkham."

"Thank you for calling us up here," Dillon said to Tim and Steph as Deadshot began his second slip-sliding attack and Alana nodded as Tim pulled all four of them down into a crouch behind the teacher's desk. Because this time Deadshot, like a blissful idiot, was hurtling towards the front of the classroom on his approach and Tim really did not trust him enough to not take cover.

"It's so brave you came out just now," Steph said to Dillon who gave her a wry look.

"Not so brave to wait until Deadshot was here to shoot the class up," he said. "Or to hide it and let them go after you so bad because I didn't want to draw attention to myself."

"We would've hid if we could," Tim said pragmatically and Steph giggled and nodded.

"Totally," she said. "Hell, I would've gone back to public school if Bruce had let me. I was popular there," she said wistfully. "And feared," she added with a little smile.

"Why feared?" Alana asked her, her eyes going big.

"Because of my dad," Steph shrugged. "The Suicide Squad is right. Your average, run-of-the-mill broke Gothamite knows who not to mess with. It's only you rich people who think life has no consequences."

"Pretty sure we're starting to learn," Dillon said, his lips quirking up into a little smile as they heard Snart start lecturing the class.

"No one's gonna snitch," he was saying. "Because snitches get what? I can't hear you!"

"Stitches," the class grumbled back at him.

"Louder!" Cold barked. "Snitches get -"

"Their fingers and toes frozen off!" Frost finished for him.

"That, too," Snart said. He looked over the whimpering, pathetic mess of broken rich kids that Deadshot had left crying on the floor. "Shoot their phones up," he said to Floyd, kicking the trashcan over to him, which prompted even more wails from the students as Floyd happily obliterated them before Snart froze the pieces for good measure.

"Now," Leonard said, "we are going to leave here with some hostages," he winked at Steph and ushered her and the three others up as Frost began heading to the window.

"You tell the cops it was Mr. Freeze and three henchmen," he instructed the remaining students as the escapees began climbing outside and starting up the rope ladder that was dangling from the roof to the sound of approaching police sirens.

Tim went happily enough and Steph ditched her crutches and followed him, using her upper body strength and good foot to climb the ladder, but Alana balked and Dillon did, too, when he saw what they were expected to do.

"I'm staying here," Alana said.

"Me, too," said Dillon.

"All right, all right," Snart said. "Two hostages is enough. Way to come out today, man," he said to Dillon, clapping his hand on the boy's shoulder with a meaningful glance before following Tim out the window.

"And don't forget," Deadshot drawled to the rest of the class as he covered the rear. "Daddy Cluemaster is watching." He winked at the students before exiting the window last of all.

Dillon and Alana looked at each other and then looked at their classmates. Alana wrinkled her nose.

"We better open the rest of the windows," she said.

On the roof, Harley was waiting cheerfully at the controls of a helicopter.

"Howdy, kids!" she said as her team clambered aboard with Tim and Steph in tow moments before a barrage of GCPD cruisers came screeching into the school parking lot with sirens blaring.

"Did ya have fun in school today?"


	24. Chapter 24

_**Chapter 24 **_

"How are we getting out of this?" Tim asked Harley as she piloted her stolen Bludhaven PD chopper through Gotham's cloudy skies.

Only he and Steph had headphones on so they could talk to Harley as she orchestrated their escape from Gotham Prep, where the Suicide Squad had just shot up Tim and Steph's classroom and scared their classmates half to death for their bullying and harassment.

Harley was dressed in her harlequin kevlar and was wearing the headphones around her neck since the strap wouldn't fit over her jester's cap. Her blonde wig was blowing in the breeze and twisting itself around the cords and Steph was sure that it was going to be a bitch to get Harley untangled when they landed.

The four former villains had stripped off their black clothes and masks in the back of the chopper to reveal their normal costumes underneath as soon as they got underway. They were now screaming at each other at the top of their lungs to be heard over the rotating blades as they traded insults back and forth, which, truth be told, wasn't too different from their normal style of communicating.

Harley glanced over at Tim from the controls and gave him and Steph a reassuring smile.

"I got a plan," she said calmly. "All you kids gotta do is tell the cops it was Mr. Freeze and three henchmen who kidnapped ya. Leave the rest to me," she said.

"What if someone got a few seconds streamed before Killer Frost took their phones away?" Tim asked her with a wrinkled brow.

"We knocked out the cell phone tower before coming in," Harley grinned. "Like I told Steph here, we're professionals."

"I'm pretty sure what you said is you're villains," Steph pointed out. "Professionals is debatable."

"Hey!" Harley giggled. "We get shit done. That's all that counts. And we get paid for it now. Ergo, we are professionals," she bragged.

"Professional nutcases," Tim said, shaking his head.

"We were all in Arkham," Harley said. "What do you expect?"

Tim and Steph laughed and Tim reached over and squeezed Steph's hand in his. Harley tried to catch Steph's eye behind his head for a wink but Steph was too busy smiling up at Tim and hanging onto his hand.

_Nothin' like a good shot of adrenaline to fuel a romance, _Harley thought to herself with satisfaction as she flew the helicopter towards the warehouse district on the outskirts of Gotham. She landed it in a parking lot next to an abandoned ice cream manufacturing plant.

"Make us proud, kiddos," Deadshot said to Tim and Steph when the two teens exited the chopper after carefully helping Harley remove her headphones without losing her pigtailed wig in the process. She couldn't have anyone knowing that she had turned brunette after escaping Arkham with Jason and honestly, the kids didn't know if she had even filled the Suicide Squad in on her new look and figured it wasn't a good time to ask.

"What do you mean, make you proud?" Steph said to Deadshot in surprise.

"Talk us up good to the press and the cops," he said.

"But I thought -" Tim started to say before stopping in his tracks as Mr. Freeze, his cold suit covered by a ridiculously large black hoodie and sweatpants, ambled up to them with three henchmen trailing behind him.

"Ah! Good, you have arrived," he said cheerfully, tossing his freeze gun to Killer Croc before trying to wrangle an equally enormous black ski mask over his domed helmet.

"Give that here, Vik," Captain Cold said, reaching out to help him get the disguise on. Killer Frost had a handful of zip ties and was binding the henchmen's hands behind them as they willingly knelt on the pavement while Deadshot made a big pretense of menacing them threateningly with his weapons.

"Make sure to give the photographers a good shot of you leering over these assholes, Croc," Floyd reminded him as Waylon took his position. "And you douchebags better look good and scared."

"We're not little punks," one of the henchmen groused.

"You are whatever I say you are for five thousand dollars apiece," Mr. Freeze corrected him. "Appear frightened. You are actors, now," he said with zest. "Put on a good performance for the press."

"Or else Croc'll stomp on you to make it more realistic," Killer Frost warned.

"Why am I always the one chosen for physical violence?" Croc complained. "That's specist."

"That's what the what?" Deadshot asked him, raising an eyebrow.

"Oh, God, no," Tim muttered as Steph started to giggle.

"Specist," Croc said. "You're a species racist. And I take offense to that."

"Aren't you the one who's always bitching about being human?" Leonard asked him as he strung several zip ties together in order to fit them around Mr. Freeze's wrists. His thick cold suit was making it difficult to bind him properly.

"Shut up, the cops are coming," Harley said. "Come here, kids," she said, pulling them off to the side to stand with her as the sound of approaching sirens grew rapidly louder until a caravan of police cars sped into the parking lot, screeching to a halt not far from the villains' vignette.

Harley waved a cheerful hand over to the cops as none other than Barbara Gordon stepped out of the first cruiser.

"The situation's under control, Commish!" Harley called out. "Gotham City's own Suicide Squad has apprehended the villains and rescued the schoolchildren!" Croc posed ferociously, teeth bared, as Deadshot and Captain Cold scowled with weapons trained on the foursome on the ground while Killer Frost smiled seductively and popped a hip while angling her best side to the light.

A flash of a camera went off, then another, as the reporters who had been trailing the police raced forward upon seeing that the danger had passed before their arrival.

"Thank God!" Barbara cried out with heartfelt relief. "Kids, are you ok?" she said with worry as she rushed towards them. As she flung her arms around them in a giant bear hug, she giggled in their ears, "I always wanted to be an actress. Was it too much?"

Tim and Steph hid their laughs in her shoulders and managed to look appropriately shaken by the time she released them and started carefully examining their faces for injuries.

"Were you hurt?" she asked them nervously.

"No," they said to her, quickly launching into their best imitation of "Bruce Wayne, hapless billionaire" as some other officers approached.

Steph widened her eyes and said "We were so scared," and she sniffed pathetically. "They took my crutches," she wailed, getting louder, "and made me climb up a rope ladder! Oh, God, I thought I was going to fall and die!" she moaned. "I could have become a splat on the school sidewalk!"

Tim choked and covered his face with his hands as his shoulders began shaking.

"I'm sorry," he gasped out, quickly masking his laughter with sobbing tears. "I shouldn't be such a coward," he whimpered.

"You've been through a very traumatic experience," Harley said comfortingly as she patted his shoulder. "It's perfectly normal to get a little emotional. We'll call your parents and have them pick you up down at the station," she said gently.

"These are both Bruce Wayne's wards," Babs said. "I'm their aunt. Technically sort of," she amended. "I'll call him right now," she said, pulling out her cell phone. "And then we'll figure out why these villains dared to kidnap you!" she said, glaring over at Mr. Freeze, who had just been dramatically un-skimasked by a triumphant Captain Cold.

"You are a disgrace to frozen beings everywhere!" Leonard was loudly berating him. "Kidnapping innocent children? Shooting up a classroom?"

"To be fair, I only froze the classroom," Mr. Freeze said. "My henchmen shot it up."

"Appalling!" Killer Frost snapped, smacking him on the back of his glass helmet. "Scaring sweet little schoolchildren like that!"

"How dare you, sir!" Killer Croc thundered. "How dare you?"

"Wayne Enterprises denied my request for a slimmer cold suit!" Mr. Freeze complained. "I know Bruce Wayne has the technology to make me one, but does he care? Nein! He denies Viktor Fries the ability to cut a dashing figure for the ladies! I ask you," he implored Killer Frost as a circle of Gotham PD officers cautiously approached the group. "Would you date someone who was confined to such unflattering attire?"

"Viktor," Killer Frost said in shock. "Was all this because you wanted to ask me out?"

"I - I…." Mr. Freeze stammered, bashfully meeting her eyes before hanging his head in shame. The officers eyed each other, then the Suicide Squad, before finally looking to a bemused Barbara Gordon.

"Viktor, committing a crime to woo a lady who has just gone straight is not the right way to go about it," she said dryly. "And you'll have to continue this conversation with her from back inside Arkham. Take them in," Babs nodded at her officers, who started helping the criminals to their feet and into the squad cars as the Suicide Squad supervised.

"Auf wiedersehen, mein liebchen," Viktor said sadly to Louise as he walked off. She waggled her blue fingers at him coyly.

"I'll call Bruce and take the kids straight to the manor," Barbara said to the police sergeant who was awaiting her further orders. "I think we can make an exception for minors. I'll get their statements from them once we get them settled. They've been through quite the ordeal."

Tim let out another whimper and sniff for the sergeant's benefit as Steph shivered in fear and took advantage of the opportunity to wrap herself around Tim in a tight hug, staying glued to him instead of pulling away. Harley and Babs noticed with gleaming eyes that Tim was more than happy to keep his arms snugged around her, and was one arm dropping a little lower down her back than normal?

"Very good, ma'am," the officer was saying to Babs. "And… how will we handle getting statements from the Suicide Squad?" he asked hesitantly.

"We can give them to ya here," Harley offered, sensing his apprehension at allowing her team into police headquarters, no matter how reformed and heroic they supposedly now were. "If that's all right with the Commish, of course."

"Whatever you prefer, Sergeant," Babs said to him. "Here or at the station, either is fine. And call Bludhaven PD, will you, to let them know we've recovered their stolen chopper."

"Yes, ma'am," the sergeant said again as he motioned the remaining officers over to begin taking down the squad's statements.

"Thank you, Harley Hood! And Suicide Squad," Steph called out to them. "You saved our lives!"

"Who knows what would have happened without you?" Tim added with puppy dog eyes.

"You are most welcome," Harley beamed. Floyd took a grand bow while Captain Cold sharply saluted, Croc regally nodded, and Killer Frost blew them a kiss.

"I hope the officer separates them before he starts asking them questions," Tim murmured to Babs as she walked him and Steph to her cruiser. "Otherwise they'll be here all day arguing with each other."

Steph giggled and Babs looked over at her with amusement only to burst out, "Steph! I should have pulled the car up. You shouldn't be walking on that ankle. It's not a walking cast," she scolded her. Steph shrugged.

"Well, I already put weight on it to beat the shit out of Brad and Winston this morning," she said as Babs raised an eyebrow, but she motioned them all into her car before speaking.

"Was that before Harley showed up?" Babs asked her once the doors were shut.

"Yeah," Steph said. "I didn't know she was coming this morning. And Brad got in our faces. I was sick of it," she said. Babs grinned.

"As your aunt, I am extremely proud of you. And as the police commissioner, I heard nothing," she said as she pulled out of the parking lot and started heading towards Wayne Manor. "We're probably going to need to get that ankle x-rayed again, though, to make sure you didn't shift any bones around."

"Ok," Steph sighed.

"Did Bruce know about this morning?" Tim asked Babs curiously. She snorted.

"As if, Tim. He hasn't loosened up _that_ much."

"You didn't call him yet," Steph reminded her.

"Do you see that clock?" Babs said, indicating the time on the dashboard. "Do you see how it says nine forty-five a.m.? I don't have a death wish," she said. "Besides, this was Harley's circus. She gets the joy of explaining this craziness to him all by herself once he wakes up. I did my part," Babs said with a laugh.

"What are we supposed to say in our statements?" Tim asked her, frowning.

"I already got them written up in my purse," Babs said breezily. "All you need to do is sign them. Well, and read them so you know what you said," she snickered. "Go ahead and pull them out, Steph," she told the teen who was riding shotgun. "My purse is down at your feet."

Steph found them and passed Tim's back to him, digging a pen out of Barbara's purse, too, so they could sign them.

They made it across town to Wayne Manor in about forty minutes, since morning traffic was still pretty bad and Babs refused to put the siren on to avoid it, despite Steph's encouragement to do so. She parked the car and got out with the teens once they finally arrived.

"I got at least an hour to kill before I can go back to the station," she explained cheerfully. "I'll have coffee with Alfred."

Tim supported Steph's arm as she limped up the steps to the front door, but once they were inside the foyer he paused.

"Do you want to hang out upstairs?" he asked her. "Since we have the day off now?"

"Sure," Steph said with a smile. "Is that ok with you, Babs?"

"Of course," she said. "You probably don't want to be around while I explain to Alfred what happened this morning, anyway," she laughed.

"Thank you for helping us," Steph told her warmly and hopped over to hug her.

"You're a terrific aunt," Tim added, also giving Babs a hug.

"You're welcome," Babs said with a gentle smile. "Next time, don't wait so long to ask us for help, ok?" she said. "We may be dysfunctional as fuck most of the time, but we're still a family," she said. "We'll have your backs."

"We're not as dysfunctional as we used to be," Steph said happily and Babs had to agree, although she had a knot in her stomach from worrying about how that might change once Jason returned to Gotham in a few days. The things Dick had confessed to her… she sighed to herself as she started down the hallway to find Alfred.

Steph was about to walk towards the stairs, but Tim startled her by scooping her up so her legs were hanging over his arm.

"Tim!" she said in surprise.

"You're not supposed to be walking on your ankle," he said with a cute smile as he looked down into her slightly red face.

"Well… ok," Steph said, feeling a flutter in her tummy that had nothing to do with the oddly weightless sensation of being carried. Tim had a lean frame, but he was packed with muscles from their rigorous training regimen and he didn't appear to be exerting any effort at all as he carried her up the grand staircase to her bedroom where he gently deposited her on her bed.

"Thanks," Steph said to him as he moved to quietly shut the door so they wouldn't wake up Damian or, God forbid, Bruce. Steph picked up the remote control for her tv as Tim climbed up next to her on the bed and settled himself against some pillows.

"The Price is Right might be on," Steph said, starting to flip through the channel listings. "I used to watch that when I was little and stayed home sick."

"Oh, I love that game with the pegboard," Tim said.

"Me, too!" Steph laughed. "I always sucked at guessing the prices, though."

"Well, little kids don't shop," Tim pointed out pragmatically as Steph found the listing and switched the show on with the volume turned low.

"You were really badass today," Tim said to her after a minute. "Beating up Brad like that."

"I was afraid you might be angry at me for it," Steph said, turning her head to look at him. "Violence wasn't part of our plan."

"It was a better plan," Tim said quietly. "I mean, I couldn't have fought without breaking my cover. And I didn't want to, honestly," he said slowly. "That's not me, when I'm not in the suit. But… I was really impressed, Steph." She smiled at him and scootched a little closer until she was pressed up against his side.

"Well, I was impressed by you yelling at Snart so Deadshot wouldn't shoot somebody for real," she said as she looked up at him admiringly. "They didn't know you were Robin. Or even Tim, at that point. That was brave."

"Not that brave," Tim said, his cheeks turning pink.

"Very brave," Steph said, and before she lost her nerve she grabbed for the back of his neck and pulled herself up and over to meet his lips with hers. It was a quick, tentative kiss, not much more than pressing her mouth against his before she drew back and looked up at him uncertainly.

Not that she had to worry. Tim's face broke out into a gigantic smile.

"You like me?" he asked her in surprise with hope flickering in his eyes.

"A lot," Steph said, smiling back at him in relief. "I was worried you didn't like me like that, though."

"I do!" Tim sputtered out. "So much, Steph," he said, and their eyes locked for a minute as Tim's left hand slowly trailed over to her waist. He held her gently as he bent his head back down and softly brushed his lips over hers before opening them just slightly to catch her lower lip in his.

Steph's hand went back around his neck and got softer as her fingers tangled up in his hair, and then she was figuring out how to kiss him back, not content to spend too much time nibbling at each other's lips before sliding her tongue hesitantly into his mouth.

Tim's happy, surprised noise made her more confident as she slowly started exploring ways to deepen their kiss, and the happy, giddy feeling in her chest and the pleasant warmth in her belly made the strangeness of kissing someone for the very first time less awkward.

Besides, it was Tim. Her best friend. The boy she'd been crushing on for two years and the Robin to her Batgirl.

His arm slid tighter around her as he drew back from their kiss for a second, his eyes sparkling, before he leaned into her mouth using his own tongue this time, which Steph found felt equally great, if not better, than what she had been doing.

"That's amazing," Steph giggled when they broke apart after a minute.

"Right?" Tim said, his eyes happy and warm.

"Come sit on my other side so I can reach you easier," Steph said, her cast making it difficult to maneuver herself up to Tim's mouth. Tim laughed and climbed over her, being careful of her ankle, though, and lay on his side facing her as she rolled over to meet him.

They stared into each other's eyes for a long minute with goofy smiles on their faces before Tim reached out to snuggle Steph tight against his chest. She snaked her lower arm under his head and lifted her other hand up to gently stroke his cheek.

"Just so you know," Steph said, "I'm not going to be ready to have a sex for a long time, I don't think."

"Me, neither," Tim said honestly. "I'd rather get used to dating you first."

"Yeah," Steph agreed. "But at least we don't have to worry anymore about getting teased for being virgins," she said, and Tim laughed before she went back to kissing him.

As they started making out, Tim thought that he had never been so happy. Who would have thought that nerdy Timothy Drake would ever get lucky enough to have a vivacious, funny, kickass, gorgeous girl like Stephanie as his girlfriend? And the fact that she was his Batgirl, too? That was the best part of all.

"Oh, my God!" Steph said suddenly, jerking her lips away from his for a second.

"What?" Tim asked her immediately. "What's wrong?" He scanned her face nervously.

"Nothing's wrong," Steph said with a huge grin. "I just realized that one day I might be married to Batman." Tim's jaw dropped a little bit as her meaning sunk in. "But no pressure," Steph said teasingly.

"None taken," Tim breathed out in awe as his heart started doing backflips into double and triple somersaults. His cheeks started to hurt from the huge smile that was now lighting up his face.

"I guess that didn't scare you off, huh," Steph asked him playfully.

"Steph, I've been crazy about you ever since we first met," Tim said, moving his hand up to cup her face. "You're not getting rid of me," he said, leaning in for a long kiss.

"Unless you want to," he said in a sudden panic, pulling back. "I didn't mean to sound like a stalker. Of course you can dump me if you want to, I wouldn't -"

"Shut up, Timmy," Steph laughed, pulling him right back into their kiss. "You're not getting rid of me, either," she said when they came up for air. "It's a Robin and Batgirl tradition to stay together."

"Well, we can't break tradition," Tim smiled at her. "But God knows who we'll find to be the Demon's Batgirl when it's his turn."

Steph groaned before dissolving into giggles and Tim joined her. But only for a minute. Because the future Mr. and Mrs. Batman were long overdue for their first make-out session. Which, they both had to agree, turned out to be more than worth the wait.


	25. Chapter 25

_**Chapter 25**_

"Ah, Master Bruce," Alfred said when his BFF awoke at one and made his way down to the kitchen, where Harley was sitting with a cup of coffee and a plate of food and Damian was just starting to attack his breakfast. "I believe the books in the library need dusting. If you'll excuse me," Alfred said, promptly exiting the room as Bruce gave first him and then Harley an odd look. Damian looked up, sensing something was amiss.

"Harley," Bruce said suspiciously.

"Yeah, Brucie?" she asked him innocently, giving him a sweet, guileless smile as she took another sip of coffee.

"Have I been asleep for four days, or is it still Monday?" he asked her as he went to pour himself a cup and load up his plate with eggs and bacon.

"It's still Monday," Harley said. "Why?" Bruce sat across from her at the kitchen table and pierced her with a Batstare.

"Alfred dusts the library books on Thursdays," he said to her. "Care to explain what's going on?"

Before Harley could answer, they were interrupted by a positively radiant Tim who was carrying a giggling Steph into the kitchen in his arms.

"Hi, Bruce," Tim said as he carefully set Steph down next to her chair. "Hi, Harley, hi, Damian," he said as Steph echoed him while he pulled the chair out for her and helped her sit. "I'll get us food," he said to Steph, squeezing her shoulders affectionately and receiving an adorably flirtatious glance in return.

Damian joined Bruce in a miniature version of the Batstare.

"What happened to your crutches?" Damian asked Stephanie curiously.

"I brought ya some new ones," Harley said to Steph cheerfully before she could answer, pointing over to where they were, indeed, leaning up against the cabinets.

"Thanks, Harley," Steph said gratefully. "Oh, Bruce, Babs said I need to get my ankle x-rayed again because I put too much weight on it this morning."

"Alfred already made the appointment for ya," Harley told her. "He's gonna take you tomorrow."

"Oh, good," Steph said happily as Tim returned to the table with plates for them. "Another day off from school," Steph said.

"And why exactly are you and Tim home from school on a Monday?" Bruce said to them, turning back to Harley with a sharply raised Batbrow. "I assume this is related to Alfred fleeing the scene?" Tim and Steph started snickering but Harley looked triumphant.

"I am pleased to announce, dear father-in-law, that Harley Hood has dealt with Tim and Steph's bullies," she announced grandly. "Three cheers for Harley! Hip hip -"

"Hooray!" Tim and Steph yelled.

"Hip hip -" Harley said.

"Hoo -" "HARLEY!" Bruce snapped. "Explain. Now. Please," he added more gently, realizing that he hadn't seen Tim and Steph look so happy, maybe ever, and remembering that he, too, had wanted to swing the bullies from their ankles off of the roof of Wayne Tower for sexually harassing his daughter. But still. Alfred had left the room for a reason, and Bruce's detective meter was going haywire.

Harley hesitated.

"Do you want the GCPD version or the version with absolutely zero corroborating evidence and complete deniability?"

"Oh, God," Bruce groaned, resting his elbows on the table so he could cradle his head in his hands. Harley giggled.

"Now, Brucie, it's not that bad," she said reassuringly.

"It kind of is," Tim said cheerfully as he cut up his pancakes.

"But in a totally awesome way," Steph said. "An awesome, horrifyingly, wonderful way," she added. "So don't be mad, Bruce, ok? Even you told me you were gonna end the bullies _and_ their parents. Remember?" she said, and to Bruce's surprise, but undeniable pleasure, Steph leaned over and cuddled her head up against his shoulder entreatingly. "Don't be mad?" she asked him sweetly.

_Damned superpowered daughters,_ Bruce thought helplessly as the sweetness of her gesture flowed through him and he felt his irritation melting against his will. A reluctant sigh escaped his chest.

"Fine," he grumbled. "Just tell me. The truth first," he clarified, looking at Harley.

"I'll start," Steph said, though. "Harley was up in the helicopter when the main part was going down." Bruce choked on his coffee.

"Oh, don't worry, Bruce," Harley said reassuringly as Steph thumped on his back. "I stole the chopper from Bludhaven. Didn't want to put Babs out." Bruce glared at her.

"It wasn't a medvac chopper, was it?" he said sharply.

"Geez, what do you take me for?" Harley said with great offense. "It was a police chopper." Bruce grunted. Which Steph took as permission to continue.

"So, we were in class and Brad started harassing me and Tim again," she said.

"Oh, let me tell this part," Tim said eagerly. "Steph clocked him in the face. He had his head shoved in between us -"

"Damian, come here so we can demonstrate," Steph said. Damian's eyes lit up and he jumped down from his chair and scampered over. "Here, lean your head in-between us," Steph instructed him.

"So Brad started in -"

"- don't say what he said," Steph cautioned. "Damian."

"Right," Tim said. "So, he started being a jerk and Steph went POW!" Steph demonstrated, stopping short of actually hitting Damian's face, though. He giggled.

_He giggled? _Bruce thought to himself. _Damian… giggled? _Bruce's heart started to become a little more like melted butter, as it had been in the habit of doing lately, and his tensed lips relaxed the barest smidgen.

"I'll do the next part," Tim said. "So you don't hurt your ankle again." He turned his head to Damian. "Scoot over some so I don't actually hit you, D." Damian obligingly moved behind Steph's chair.

"Right after Steph hit him, she jumped up -" Tim demonstrated, landing on what would be Steph's good foot, "and she kicked her chair right into his knees." Tim snapped the chair back with full Robin force, sending it crashing into the kitchen island.

"Timothy Drake!" Bruce bellowed, jumping to his feet. "Thank God Alfred left the room," he said, giving Tim a menacing look as he got up to retrieve the fortunately still-intact chair and set it firmly back at the table. "Sit," he told Tim. "You, too," he told Damian, but he said it more gently and actually caressed his little son's head as he sent him back to his seat.

"Well," Tim went on, slightly subdued under Bruce's chastisement, "then Steph started beating the shit out of Brad. It was hot," he said admiringly, and Steph didn't even blush this time when he said it. She just smiled over at him with big hearts floating out of her eyes. Which Tim returned. Bruce's lips twitched and he caught Harley's eye. She winked at him.

Damian hadn't resumed eating but was listening intently to the play-by-play, with his little chin resting in his hands.

"Then Winston came over to try to hit me," Steph continued with gusto, "so I went to beat him up, too, while Tim grabbed Brad."

"But I grabbed him as clumsily as possible," Tim assured Bruce quickly. The Bat was flicking his eyes from Steph to Tim as they spoke, and even though he had gotten grumpy about the chair flying across the room, the corners of Bruce's lips were curling up now and pride was lighting up his eyes.

"Well done," Bruce said with the tiniest of smiles. "I'm proud of you," he said and Tim and Steph both swelled up with the compliment. Even Damian nodded approvingly at them.

"You conducted yourselves adequately," he said.

"Thanks, little D," Tim laughed as Steph giggled. "That's high praise, coming from you."

"Indeed," said Damian.

"Harley?" Bruce said with a little more Bat in his voice as he turned back to face her. "Let's hear your part," he said suspiciously. "Which I sense is much worse."

"I still have to tell it," Steph said, patting Bruce's arm to get his attention back. "So, right when I was about to hit Winston - well, I did hit him, actually - Captain Cold came in through the window and froze the classroom door shut."

"He was dressed all in black, though," Tim said. "With a ski mask. The whole team was."

"That's hardly an adequate disguise," Bruce frowned.

"Relax, Bruce," Harley said. "It was for the distance shot, if the cops saw us leaving on their approach. We knocked the cell phone tower out before we came and Killer Frost took all the kids' phones, too. And destroyed them. Nothing got posted on social media."

"Ok," Bruce sighed reluctantly. He looked at Tim and Steph. "What did your teacher do when the Suicide Squad came in?"

"Oh," Tim said. "Mr. Mendel wasn't in the classroom yet. That's why Brad started in on us, actually." Bruce frowned.

"That's a legal violation, for students to be unsupervised at school."

"Yeah, um, the teacher had a little unavoidable situation this morning," Harley said. "He won't get in any trouble." Bruce looked at her.

"His bus got held up," Harley said. "And the cell phone tower was out so he couldn't call in."

"Held up like a traffic jam?" Bruce said, raising his eyebrow. "Or held up, robbed?"

"Um," Harley said. "Moving on. Steph. Continue."

"Well," Steph said, suddenly faltering a little bit under Bruce's intense Batstare which was focusing now on her. "Um," she said.

"Deadshot shot up the classroom," Tim said vaguely, jumping in to rescue her. "And the Squad warned everyone not to bully us anymore. Because Steph is Cluemaster's daughter and they should know better than to mess with the Gotham Rogues."

"That's true enough," Bruce muttered.

"And then we left with Harley," Steph said. "That's all. Uh huh. The end."

"And we blamed the whole thing on Mr. Freeze!" Harley said proudly. "Who was happy to help me out. He said he kidnapped Tim and Steph because you refused to make him a slimmer cold suit and he wanted to look good to ask Killer Frost out."

"_I _refused…?" Bruce asked her slowly.

"Well, Bruce Wayne refused. On behalf of Wayne Enterprises. You know. We needed a motive for Tim and Steph to be the ones targeted," Harley said calmly.

"Ok," Bruce said slowly. "What aren't you telling me?" he asked the trio of guilty looking sidekicks. _And when did I start thinking of Harley as my sidekick? _Bruce wondered to himself in the back of his mind, but the thought was laced with amusement instead of irritation, and that was a novelty in and of itself.

Tim and Steph and Harley glanced at each other. Damian was looking at them all as expectantly as Bruce.

Harley looked down and inhaled slowly as her eyelids fluttered a little bit. When she looked up, Dr. Quinzel was clearly fully in charge of her system.

"Bruce," she said gently. "How will it help you to know that?" Bruce gave her a disbelieving look.

"I have a right to know," he said. "As Batman _and _as their father." Harley noticed out of the corner of her eye that Tim perked up at the word 'father' and she smiled.

"But how will it help you to know?" Harley persisted. "To have more information than the other parents have will only make your clueless billionaire act more difficult for you. And honestly, the full truth is only going to upset you and what's the point of that?" Harley said in a practical voice.

"I told you I'd handle it, and I did," she said. "No one got hurt. The bullying is going to stop. And, frankly," she continued more seriously, "some entitled rich kids got a valuable life lesson that one or two of them might actually take to heart. It wouldn't hurt any of those kids to think twice before they bully someone the next time."

"Or rape them," Steph pointed out more grimly. "Honestly, Bruce, popular girls putting roofies in the loser girl's drinks at parties is a thing. And those rich frat boy types love to rape whoever they want. They're so used to never having consequences." Bruce's face softened and he glanced at her uncomfortably before sliding concerned eyes over to Harley, who had started worrying her lip a little bit with her teeth.

Bruce sighed.

"Ok," he said after a moment. "I defer to your wisdom on this," he said to Harley and Steph. Tim met his eyes and gave him a slight nod.

"I still would like to meet Deadshot," Damian pouted. "It's not fair that Tim and Steph got to meet him and I didn't."

"No," Bruce growled.

"Aw, Brucie, come on," Harley said pleadingly. "Floyd is a father now, you know. He ain't gonna teach little D any bad tricks or nothin'." Bruce exhaled heavily through his nose.

"Don't you think he might recognize Bat-mite?" he said to her. "Damian, son, your talents and your intelligence make you stand out from other seven-year olds," he said to his frowning child. "You know that's why we're homeschooling you until you're older, to keep your identity a secret. Plus, you know how I feel about guns," Bruce said more seriously, and Harley actually hesitated, remembering why he felt that way.

"Well," Harley said slowly. "What if Bane, as Batman, took Bat-Mite to meet Deadshot sometime? That wouldn't compromise Damian's identity. And…" she thought for a second. "They could go to a paintball course? With Batgirl and Robin?"

Bruce wanted to say no, but as he looked into Damian's tiny pleading eyes, so eagerly wistful, he heard himself say, "Fine. But you have to go, too," he said to Harley, pinning her with his eyes. "And Jason," he said firmly but automatically.

Although his words gave him pause after. Huh. He and Jason were still working through their estrangement, and Bruce was never going to be on board with Jason's killing rampages (or Harley's, for that matter), but Bruce realized that he trusted Jason unconditionally with Damian.

The bond that Jason and Damian clearly had - even though Jason had broken it at one point, after the Lazarus Pit - well, Bruce recognized another father's guilt when he saw it. He knew without a doubt that Jason would never hesitate to be there for Damian in the future. And that knowledge was oddly comforting.

"Ok," Harley was saying cheerfully. "That'll work."

"Thank you, Father," Damian said happily, and he was smiling up at Bruce, and he had been smiling so much more these last few weeks since Bane and then Harley and Jason had come into their lives, and Tim and Steph were smiling more, too, and, well - what was that smile doing breaking out on the former Batman's face?

_I might get used to this,_ Bruce thought to himself. And whereas before that thought would have filled him with fears about the inherent weakness of happiness, this time the thought filled him with peace.

After all, Harley smiled all the damn time, and she was the freakin Queen of Gotham. Even Babs wasn't immune to her charms, it seemed, and that was saying something. Maybe… maybe Bruce could live with a little happiness in his life. And maybe he'd even learn to enjoy it.


	26. Chapter 26

_A/N Trigger Warnings: This chapter contains references to attempted childhood rape - the incident is described, but not graphically. Standard Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction for entertainment purposes only. Killing people for any reason is both wrong and illegal. Don't do it. _

* * *

_**Chapter 26**_

After the Batfamily finished lunch, or breakfast in the case of Bruce and Damian, Tim and Steph returned to her bedroom to continue taking advantage of their day off from school by watching Star Trek: IV, one of their favorite old sci-fi movies. Alfred emerged from his hiding place in the conservatory to begin Damian's next cooking lesson while Bruce made his way down to the Batcomputer.

He'd noticed that he felt more interested in crime-fighting again since Bane had joined the team and started shaking him out of his depression, and there were a few cases that Bruce could work on from home before Bane got back to town. It felt good to be doing something again, Bruce realized, and if the knowledge that he was working on something for his Batman-partnership with Bane was also giving him a warm feeling in his stomach, for reasons that had nothing to do with Batman, well, Bruce wasn't going to complain.

Harley went back to bed, since she'd only gotten a few hours of sleep the night before in between patrolling as Batgirl and Operation Anti-Bullying at Tim and Steph's school first thing in the morning.

She awoke around four to the sound of her phone ringing.

"Hello?" she said groggily as she answered. "Jay?"

"Hi, baby," Jason said softly. "Did I wake you up?"

"Yeah," Harley said, yawning a little bit. "It's ok, though. It's worth it to hear from you," she said and Jason's heart on the other side of the country gave a happy leap like it did every time he was reminded again how much Harley loved him. And how damn lucky he was.

"I got your texts," he said to her. "The thing at the kids' school went good, it sounds like?" Harley giggled.

"Yeah, it was the best," she said sleepily. "I wish I could've been inside to see Floyd shooting everything up, though. Especially when he was sliding around on the ice." Jason laughed.

"That part sounded hilarious," he said. "The cops bought it? Babs played it off?"

"She did good," Harley said with admiration. "Very commissioner like but also freaking out over her niece and nephew getting kidnapped."

"That's good," Jason said. "It'll be good to work things out with her when I get back," he said. "I always liked her when we were kids. Way better than Dickhead," he snorted and Harley sighed.

"I bet," she said empathetically.

"So…" Jason said slowly. "It's done. The prick is dead." Harley's breath left her body in a whoosh and when she breathed in, it was on a sob.

"You're ok, you're safe?" she asked him as she sniffed and tried not to completely break down. "You and Bane are ok?"

"Yeah, yeah, we're fine, baby," Jason said reassuringly. "No evidence left at the scene and we're completely safe and sound. Miles away already."

"Good," Harley choked out, starting to cry harder. "I'm not upset he's dead," she gasped, a little confused at the flood of tears drowning her face and not wanting Jay to get the wrong impression.

"I know," Jason said gently. "It's emotional. And brings a lot of memories up, maybe?" he asked her and Harley mumbled, "Yeah," in between sobs. She realized that she had drawn her knees up to her chest and was crying into her arms with the phone still held up to ear as she and Jay were talking.

_Fetal position, _she thought numbly to herself with one part of her brain while the rest of her broke down.

"I wish I could be there with you right now," Jason said compassionately. "I love you so much, Harley Todd."

"I love you, too," Harley gulped out as she shook. Jason hesitated.

"Could I call Bruce?" he asked her. "And have him come sit with you? I hate for you to be going through this alone," he said. Harley sniffed.

"Can Bane call him? I don't want you to hang up until Bruce gets here," she said, and Jason's heart broke a little bit at the vulnerability in her voice.

"Sure, baby. One sec," Jason said, and Harley heard him relaying her request to Bane. "Ok, he's calling him right now," Jason said soothingly a few seconds later. "And I'm still here."

"Ok," Harley mumbled, giving into the tears with full force now. Jason kept murmuring soothing comments in her ear until there was a knock a few minutes later on her door.

Bruce had been training in the gym with all three kids when his phone had rung with Bane's ID popping up. He grabbed a towel and wiped his neck off as he answered.

"Bane?" he said. "Everything ok?"

"Ah, Bruce," Bane said. "Jason and I are fine, yes. He is on the phone with Harley now. We have completed our mission and Harley is… quite emotional."

"Oh," said Bruce with concern. Was Bane's voice shaking a little bit, too? That was odd.

"She is crying upstairs in her bedroom," Bane said, "and we would appreciate if you would sit with her. Jason will remain on the phone with her until you arrive."

"Ok," Bruce said. "I'll go right up." He supposed he shouldn't shower first, but he mentally groaned thinking that a sweaty, stinky Bruce was probably not the comforting companion that Harley and Jason had in mind.

"Thank you, my friend," Bane was saying, though, and Bruce heard a definite wobble in his voice this time.

"Are you all right?" Bruce asked him, continuing the call as he left the gym, catching Tim's eye to gesture to the phone and the hallway to let him know he was leaving. Tim nodded back at him and gave him a cheerful thumbs-up as Steph continued with her arm weights and Damian practiced his tumbling routines.

"Me?" Bane asked Bruce in surprise. "Am I all right?"

"You sound upset, too," Bruce said. Bane hesitated.

"It is nothing," he murmured.

"It doesn't sound like nothing," Bruce said gently. "You want to talk about it?"

"Harley needs you right now," Bane mumbled.

"Later, then?" Bruce said. "I'll call you back late tonight after the Batpatrol starts. Shit, I'm gonna have to bench her if she's unstable," he thought out loud as he jogged up the stairs. "I guess the Suicide Squad can handle it alone, though." Bane was quiet on the other end of the phone, but Bruce could hear him breathing.

"Bane?" Bruce said again, with a little more worry in his voice. "I want to talk tonight. I mean it," he said more firmly.

"Very well," Bane said quietly. "After patrol starts."

"Good," Bruce said. "I'm here at Harley's room," he said, pausing outside her closed door. He wanted to offer some word of reassurance to Bane, but truthfully, he didn't know what to say. Bruce still wasn't the best at comfort and without even knowing what was going on? He gave a mental groan of frustration.

"I - um, get Jason to give you a hug," he blurted out. Bane's soft chuckle surprised him from the other end of the line.

"You have begun to learn from Bane the wisdom of hugs, I see," his friend teased him lightly.

"Among other things," Bruce said with a smile. "Talk to you later."

He knocked on the door and heard Harley call back 'come in.' She was still curled up sobbing on the bed with the phone pressed to her ear as he entered.

"Bruce is here," she managed to get out to Jason. "Yeah. I love you, too, Jay," she said before hanging up.

"Hi," Bruce said as he walked over to her. "Should I sit on the bed? I was working out and I'm sweaty."

"Sit," Harley mumbled. "I can sleep in one of the million other spare rooms ya got here tonight if ya stink the bed up." She scooted over on the bed and tried to wipe her face off with her sleeve, but there were too many tears and she ended up just smearing them around.

"Hold on," Bruce said, going to her bathroom to grab the box of tissues. He handed it to her as he sat next to her at the head of the bed and wrapped his arm around her shoulders.

"Phew, you do stink," Harley said as she mopped her face off, but she was curling into his shoulder anyway.

"Sorry," Bruce muttered. "Alfred can change your bed linens after. You won't need to sleep in a different room," he said.

"I can tell you was raised by a British butler," Harley sniffed as some more tears leaked out and her chest wouldn't stop heaving. Bruce quirked his eyebrow up. "Bed linens," Harley said in a haughty British accent, actually making herself giggle a little bit. Bruce smiled, too.

"Apt observation skills, Mrs. Todd," he said to her. "I didn't have a bathrobe, either," Bruce said. "I had a dressing gown." She smiled a little bit through her watery eyes.

"How can I help?" Bruce asked her as she kept sniffling and hiccupping against his chest.

"I don't know," Harley mumbled. "I wasn't expecting all this."

It was on the tip of Bruce's tongue to lecture her about the unexpected emotional consequences of murder, but even he could see that moralizing wouldn't help her after the fact. The deed was done and Harley was more of a mess than she'd been before her revenge, outwardly, at least, and Bruce was trying really hard this week not to be an ass.

He thought as he continued snuggling her under his arm. A lightbulb went off.

"I seem to recall someone telling my daughter that ice cream was an excellent means of support," he said, looking down at Harley with a small twinkle in his eye. "Especially for hapless middle aged men who are confronted with emotionally troubled females."

"Hey," Harley said with a small chuckle. "Ice cream is a gender neutral means of support. I never said nothin' about males and females and all that nonsense."

"All right, all right," Bruce laughed. "I'm going to pull rank as Batman and say that you need some," he said. "Come on," he said, getting off the bed and tugging her to her feet. "I'll fix you a sundae." Harley stared at him.

"You can fix sundaes?" she said in disbelief.

"Harley, it's just scooping things into a bowl," Bruce said with mock offense. "Even billionaires can manage that."

"If you say so, Brucie," Harley said. "But if your first one is inadequate, which I can only determine by eating it, of course, then I'm gonna need to have Alfred fix me a second one."

"Pssh," Bruce said as they started walking down the stairs. "I should at the very least get one do-over before you call in Alfred."

"Well, it might be a three-sundae kind of day," Harley agreed.

Despite her big talk, Harley only managed to eat one sundae while she and Bruce kicked their feet up on the leather recliners in his movie-theatre styled tv room - complete with enormous, movie theatre sized television - as they watched Animal Planet together.

"I haven't seen this one," Damian said when he and Steph and Tim found them after finishing their training. The trio came in to join them and Damian crawled up onto Bruce's lap with Osito.

"Alfred said dinner will be ready in half an hour," Tim said as he and Steph made their way to a sofa on the raised platform behind Harley and Bruce. Harley craned her neck around to smile at them and her grin got even bigger when she saw that the teens had wasted no time in snuggling up together.

"Are you ok, Harley?" Steph asked her. "You look like you've been crying." Damian, who hadn't noticed this fact, leaned over Bruce's arms to gravely inspect Harley's face.

"Red watery eyes," Bruce started murmuring in his ear. "Red nose where she's been blowing it."

"Bruce!" Harley squawked. "Are you teaching your son how to tell when someone's been crying?"

"Obviously," Bruce said with a touch of his trademark Bat snark. "Batman is first and foremost a detective, Harley," he said. She laughed merrily like he'd made a ridiculous joke. Bruce raised his eyebrow while Damian stared at her in puzzlement. She caught herself mid-laugh.

"You're serious?" she asked him.

"Of course I'm serious," he said in disbelief. "World's greatest detective…?" he said to her, good and affronted now. Harley slowly opened and closed her mouth.

"Um, not ringin' any bells," she said. "I thought you were first and foremost the terror who flaps in the night."

"That's Darkwing Duck," Steph said. Damian turned himself around to peer at her over Bruce's shoulder, although Bruce had also turned his head to give her a look. "Disney Cartoon channel," she said. "Number 457." Damian nodded with a little smile and turned back around.

"I shall research this duck," he said.

"They based Darkwing Duck off of Batman, though," Tim said philosophically. "The show didn't air until years after Batman had been active. One of the creators is from Gotham, too. That's how you really know."

"Wait," Harley said with glee. "Are you tellin' me that Batman has an animated fanshow? With a duck? Instead of a bat?" She fell over laughing. Bruce frowned hard.

"I've never heard of this show," he said. "It's been on for how long?" Steph sighed melodramatically.

"Dick and Jason weren't cool enough to watch cartoons, I bet," she said over the sounds of Harley, who had begun quacking.

"Or else they were too old," Tim said diplomatically as Harley got louder. "And you're not up on social media fads, Bruce. There's memes about it going around these days."

"I'm Quackman!" Harley giggled, jumping off of the couch and flapping her arms as she waddled around the room. Bruce huffed in real annoyance this time.

"Harley!" he snapped.

"You have to say it in duck or I can't understand you," Harley said in a sing-song voice as she continued to quack and waddle around the room.

Bruce frowned with deeper lines evident between his brows. He stood up with Damian in his arms and walked around to Tim and Steph.

"Tim, you take Damian and help Alfred get dinner out," he said as he held his hand out to help Steph up from the couch on her good foot.

"Is everything ok?" Tim asked more somberly, glancing from Bruce to the still circling Harley.

"We'll figure it out," Bruce said, putting Damian on Tim's back for a piggyback ride. Damian giggled as he and Osito hung onto Tim, who carried them out of the room. Steph looked up at Bruce questioningly.

"Jason and Bane killed Harley's stepdad today," he said to her. "She hasn't been doing so good since. She was crying up a storm earlier and they had to call me. We ate ice cream together and watched Animal Planet and she seemed to calm down some, but…" he looked with concern over at Harley, who was quacking to herself without an active audience.

"What do we do?" Steph whispered. "Should we call Jason and Bane back?"

"I'll step out and do that," Bruce said quietly. "Stay here with her. See if you can get her to talk to you," he said, handing Steph her crutches. She slowly swung her way to the front couch as Bruce left the room, closing the door behind him with a worried look in his eyes.

"Harley?" Steph said to her as she maneuvered herself back down on the closer couch. "Can we talk?" Harley glanced at her like she was just noticing the girl. Her silly smile held for a second before slowly slipping away into something more normal looking.

"Oh, Steph," Harley said. "Sure. What's up?" she asked her, coming over to sit next to Steph, who was a little taken aback at Harley's quick return to level-headedness.

"Um, it's about something kind of serious," Steph said, thinking quickly to the one thing from her past that might give Harley an anchor. Although whether it would tether her or drag her further under, Steph wasn't sure.

"Are you good to talk about something heavy? Bruce said you've been having a rough day yourself."

"You can tell me," Harley said, sobering even more as she focused intently on Steph, who could see the calming wisdom of Dr. Quinzel almost starting to glow out of Harley's eyes. "What's going on, honey?" Harley said.

"Well, I never told anybody this before," Steph said honestly. "Not even Tim." Harley nodded patiently, quietly waiting for Steph to continue.

"My dad, um, he had one of his friends babysit me once when I was little," Steph said. "Not super little. Maybe ten," she said. "My mom, she was a nurse, you know, and she was working and my dad needed to go meet up with somebody about something, probably criminal…" Steph swallowed as the memories came up more strongly.

"But he wasn't gonna leave me home alone at night so he had his friend come over. And, uh, he tried to rape me, Harley. My dad's friend, I mean."

"Oh, Steph," Harley said softly. "I'm so sorry that happened to you." She looked completely in control and so empathetic and Steph felt a pressure that she had been keeping wound up tight inside of her chest for years start to unfurl.

"He wasn't able to do it," Steph said, blinking away some tears. "I bit him and got away. And then I ran outside and hid. And waited until my dad came home."

"That must have been so scary," Harley said. "What that asshole did to you and waiting outside both. You grew up in Crime Alley, right?" she said.

"Yeah," Steph said. "And I told my dad what happened when he got home, but he didn't believe me. At least, he said he didn't," Steph said, wiping her eyes. "Which was devastating. But then a week later? The guy was dead from a drug overdose. And he didn't do drugs, Harley."

"You think your dad killed him," Harley said. Steph nodded.

"I don't know for sure. I never asked him. But I've felt so guilty about it ever since," Steph sniffed, her voice beginning to shake.

"Guilty?" Harley said. "Why, honey? You were the victim. And it wasn't like you asked your dad to kill him."

"I don't know," Steph said. "I feel bad that somebody died because of me. Which doesn't make sense, I know," she said, rubbing her head in frustration. "I know what he did. I hated what he did. And I'm sure I wasn't the first girl he'd done that to."

"That's right," Harley said soothingly. "And imagine who else that man might have hurt in his lifetime if he'd lived longer. Plus, it wasn't like your dad, being Cluemaster, was gonna call the police up and report him."

"We're worried about you, Harley," Steph said quietly, reaching out to hold the older woman's hand. Harley frowned.

"Me? Why - oh," she said, blinking a little. She bit her lip and looked off into the distance for a minute.

"Are you ok?" Steph asked her. "Bruce said you fell apart earlier. And the duck thing, um, it was funny but then it got a little scary, too. Like you couldn't stop."

Harley took a deep breath and released Steph's hand so she could massage her sinuses and temples before answering. She sighed and met Steph's eyes.

"I've been out of the therapist game for too long," she said. She shook her head a little bit. "Didn't even occur to me that I'd have a reaction to Jay - um, you know." Steph nodded.

"I don't know," Harley muttered to herself, as if answering a silent question. "What's done is done. Would I have been better off without letting Jay do it? I don't know, kid," she said. "The fucker being alive ate me up every day, too. Especially worrying if he was attacking other people and if that was on me or not."

"Oh, Harley," Steph said. "It was on him. All on him."

"Maybe," Harley said. "Maybe not. I don't know. I've done a lot of bad shit in my life," she said to Steph. "Killed a lot of people. Even after getting my mind back. But I only kill people who oughtta be killed. Rapists, child molesters, murderers. You know," she said.

"Me and your brother are the same that way. So I ain't gonna say I shouldn't have killed the bastard. But…" she paused. "I guess it was more complicated than I was expecting when it was my revenge and not me avengin' somebody else."

"That makes sense," Steph said soothingly. "Are you - do you think you'll be ok, now?" Harley thought for a minute, then nodded.

"Now that I'm payin' more attention, I think so," she said. "We'll meditate after dinner and then I'll go on patrol and then I'll call Jay afterwards."

"No patrol tonight," Bruce said gently from behind them. Steph and Harley turned in surprise.

"How much did you hear?" Steph asked him suspiciously.

"Just the last little bit," Bruce said. Steph narrowed her eyes at him but he held her gaze. "I came back in when Harley said her rapist being alive bothered her, too. I didn't want to interrupt."

"Ok," Steph said finally.

"Why no patrol?" Harley said, frowning.

"You're not in a good headspace tonight," Bruce said. "And considering one Mrs. Harley Todd wouldn't let me patrol this week as Batman because of my head being a mess…" he trailed off but he was smiling at her. "Your team can handle it," he said. She sighed.

"Ok, fine," she grumbled.

"Will you call your husband back and let him know you're ok again?" Bruce asked her. "We have a few minutes before dinner and I'll make Alfred wait for you." Harley snorted.

"More like Alfred will make _you_ wait for me," she said. "He's Mr. Manners around here, Batsy. In case you hadn't noticed. With that super detectivey bullshit that you say you've got goin' on."

"I am a detective," Bruce insisted with a little laugh. "Why is that so hard to believe?"

"Hm, maybe cuz you run around Gotham in a pointy-eared mask with big old flappy wings scaring the shit out of people," Harley said. "If you'd said you were an out of work Haunted House actor, that I could have believed." Steph giggled. Bruce gave her a look.

"Get started to the kitchen, slowpoke," he teased her. "It takes you twice as long."

"Whatever, old man," Steph said, picking her crutches up so she could start swinging along. Bruce snorted.

"I know I'm old because that doesn't even bother me," he said, reaching out to ruffle her hair as she passed him.

"You good?" he asked Harley once Steph had left the room. "Or, well, better?" She nodded.

"I think so," she said. "Thanks, Bruce. I'm sorry," she said regretfully.

"You don't really have anything to apologize for," Bruce said. "Although," he said dryly, "I suppose technically one could say that you did crash at my house while your husband went on a murderous rampage that left me with a sobbing mess to clean up, but… really, no apologies necessary."

"Bruce!" Harley said severely as her eyes started to twinkle.

"Was that me being too much of an asshole again?" he asked her playfully.

"No," said Harley. "Well, yes. But that's not the point. I wasn't apologizing for any of that shit anyway. You fucked Jay up when he was a kid and then got him killed so my minor incident from this afternoon hasn't even begun to even out the debt you owe us."

"Oh, it hasn't?" said Bruce innocently.

"Nope," said Harley.

"Then what were you apologizing for, may I ask?" he said.

"For telling you earlier that you had to quack at me before I'd answer," Harley said sweetly. Bruce raised his eyebrow.

"So long as you don't call me Quackman again, we're good," he grunted.


	27. Chapter 27

_A/N Trigger warnings - mentions of childhood sexual abuse, rape, and other types of abuse (none are graphically described). Standard disclaimer - This is a work of fiction for entertainment purposes only. Killing people for any reason is both illegal and wrong. Don't do it. _

* * *

_**Chapter 27**_

"Bane?" Bruce said gently into the phone. "Is this a good time to talk? You're not driving?"

"No, it is fine, my friend," Bane said. He sounded weary, Bruce thought. Like he was carrying too much weight on the once-strong shoulders that had supported not only Bruce but his entire family these last few weeks. What had happened to the tranquil zen-like spirit that Bruce had become accustomed to leaning on, he wondered.

"We have pulled off-road for a while so that Jason could talk to Harley privately," Bane was explaining. "So now is, in fact, an excellent time to talk."

"Good," Bruce said. "I'm worried about you," he said softly, twisting Bane's friendship bracelet around his wrist. "Will you tell me what's going on?"

Bane let out a long sigh and then was quiet for a few moments. Bruce waited silently, but with an anxious tension in his gut. Finally, he heard Bane take a deep breath.

"You asked me once why I killed the Jesuit priest who mentored me in Peňa Duro," he said.

"Yes," Bruce said, surprised. A sick feeling crept into the pit of his stomach and he closed his eyes in painful anticipation of Bane's next words, because Bruce suddenly saw with clarity where this conversation was going.

"Why would I kill such a gentle prisoner," Bane mused sardonically. "A man who took it upon himself to educate little Bane, to see that he was a literate and well-read child, versed in spirituality as well as all of the diverse knowledge that his aged brain had accumulated in his years upon the earth."

"That sick bastard," Bruce half-whispered. Bane gave an empty chuckle.

"Yes, Bruce. He saw to it that Bane was educated in every way imaginable." His voice trailed off and Bruce found that his chest was heaving and his breathing had become ragged.

"I'm so sorry, Bane," Bruce choked out as tears of pain and rage started spilling out of his eyes. He sniffed and wiped his face impatiently, even though Bane wasn't on a video chat, because dammit, this wasn't about him, it was about Bane and what he had gone through, not what Bruce was going through in reaction to learning his friend's traumatic history.

"Tell me, Bruce," Bane said thoughtfully. "You are feeling rage? On my behalf?"

"Yes," Bruce said immediately and honestly.

"A murderous rage?" Bane asked him. Bruce exhaled in frustration.

"I don't kill, Bane. You know that," he said.

"Yes, yes, I know," Bane said. "But, you are tempted to? Or would be, if the priest were still alive?"

"Of course I'd be tempted to," Bruce muttered.

"Ah," Bane said. And then fell silent again. Bruce huffed.

"Do you think I've never been tempted to kill anyone?" he said a little more strongly. "My parents were murdered in front of me when I was seven," he said. "I fantasized every day about the time when I'd be strong enough to end their killers," he said. "And when the Joker killed Jason? I have never wanted to kill anyone more," he said fiercely.

"Yet you did not," Bane said. "Why is that, Bruce? What stops you from honoring the dead and the innocent with blood vengeance?" Bruce laughed helplessly.

"Once I started, I'd never stop," he said. "No matter how petty the crime. You don't know me, Bane. Not like you think you do. I'm not some morally superior being and I'm not someone who's too squeamish to cross that line, either. You have no idea how much darkness is inside of me," Bruce said bitterly.

"Tim could tell you," he continued. "Hell, anyone in Gotham could. After Nightwing and I drove you out of the city? When my back had healed? I tortured people, Bane. I tortured them and I enjoyed it," Bruce said in a thick voice. "It fed this ravenous hunger deep inside of me that I have carried my whole life."

"A hunger to hurt," Bane said.

"Yes," said Bruce honestly, but with regret. "You kill people, Bane, and I will never like it - but you're a far better man than I'll ever be. If I started killing people, I couldn't turn it off and on like you and Jason and Harley do."

"It is your addiction," Bane said with sudden understanding. "Killing is your Venom."

"Yes," Bruce said in wonder. "I never thought of it like that, but yes."

"Mm," Bane said. "You might share that with young Jason," he said.

"Jason?" Bruce said in puzzled confusion. "Why with Jason?" Bane hesitated.

"Not to breach our road trip confidences, but… Jason thought that the Joker was still alive when he returned to Gotham after leaving the Lazarus Pit."

"Oh, shit," Bruce said. "And he's pissed I didn't kill him. I'll talk to him," Bruce sighed. "Thank you."

"Of course," Bane murmured.

"But you and the priest…?" Bruce said hesitantly. "Do you want to talk about it? Did killing Harley's dad bring memories back up for you? You sounded pretty shaky earlier."

"How could you tell that?" Bane said quietly, but Bruce thought that he sounded pleased, and a warm sappy smile filled Bruce's face.

"I pay attention to you," Bruce said and Bane chuckled softly. "You don't have to deflect the question, though," Bruce added more gently. "We don't have to talk about it. I just wanted you to know that I'm here for whatever you need."

"Whatever I need," Bane said, and it wasn't a come on. He sounded almost wistful and a little sad.

"Anything," Bruce said more firmly. "And, always." Bane laughed, but it wasn't a happy sound.

"Bruce, Bruce," he said. "You do not know what you are offering to Bane."

"What if I do," Bruce said seriously with a surge of courage. "And what if I'm hoping like hell that it's what you want, too."

"Bruce," Bane said, and Bruce's insides lit up, because Bane's voice sounded shaky again, but in a good way, this time. Like he almost didn't believe him but really, really wanted to.

"I hate doing this over the phone," Bruce groaned. "But, listen, Bane. I'm a fucked up mess and frankly, a terrible catch."

"Bruce," Bane said again, but this time in gentle chastisement.

"Let me finish," Bruce laughed in embarrassment. "I'm not much and God only knows why you'd want to be with me, but you've - shit. You've become my Venom," Bruce mumbled. "And I'd really like to date you. If you want to," he added nervously.

"Venom has many negative effects, you know," Bane said teasingly as his voice became downright cheerful. "I am not so sure that comparing me to Venom is fair."

"Bane," Bruce huffed as amused annoyance overtook his nerves. "Can we resolve the metaphors after you give me an answer? Or are you going to leave my poor heart hanging out in the cold?"

"My apologies, Bruce," Bane chuckled. "Of course I want to date you." And dammit if Bruce's eyes didn't get wet as a relieved laugh escaped from his lips.

"Thank God," he groaned into the phone as he scrubbed the tears off of his face. "I haven't been that nervous since I first got laid." Bane let out a hearty laugh that dissolved into chuckles.

"And for the record," Bruce said with a bit of a growl as he got control of himself again, "I maintain that calling you my Venom was damn sweet."

"Mm," Bane murmured in a sexy tone. "When I return, you may attempt to convince me of that."

"With pleasure," Bruce answered, his eyes twinkling in the dark of his study.

* * *

"Hey, Tim?" Steph said as the two teens sat alone in front of the Batcomputer monitoring the Suicide Squad's patrol while Bruce was upstairs on the phone with Bane and Damian was working on a cake with Alfred in the kitchen.

"Yes, oh girlfriend, mine?" Tim said, smiling over at her with such genuine happiness lighting up his face that Steph couldn't help but smile more, too, despite what she wanted to tell him.

"Can I tell you something kind of bad?" she asked him. His eyebrows shot up.

"Of course," he said, automatically wheeling his chair closer to hers and picking up her hand in his. "What's up?" he said gently.

"It's something I talked to Harley about today," Steph said. "When she got all loopy. I thought it might help her come back to reality, and it did, but… I want to tell you, too."

"Ok," Tim said, a worried crease puckering up his forehead now.

"Um, when I was ten, one of my dad's friends tried to rape me," Steph said heavily.

"Oh, my God!" Tim said, his jaw dropping as his grip on her hand tightened automatically. "Steph," he said, leaning over from his chair to wrap her up in a big hug. Steph sank into his arms gratefully and wrapped her arms around his neck as Tim squeezed her almost tightly enough to crack a rib. But Steph didn't complain, because she didn't even mind. As she closed her eyes, Steph thought that she'd never felt so safe.

* * *

"Excellent work, Master Damian," Alfred said with genuine approval as Damian completed a perfectly formed buttercream rose on his metal spindle. "And now, we slide it off with the icing spreader, the blunt tool, that's right, and gently place it on the cake. Wonderful," he enthused as Damian positioned it just so.

"I do declare, Master Damian, you have quite a gift for piping," Alfred said with pleasure.

"I enjoy it," Damian said with a small smile as he started on another rose. "It is like killing people, but not like it," he said. Alfred glanced down at him with a sinking feeling in his chest.

"What do you mean, Master Damian?" the elderly butler said carefully in a neutral tone of voice.

"Well," Damian said, pausing as he finished his rose petals, "the attention to detail. The need for perfection. The knowledge that one misstep can destroy your mission or result in your death -" Alfred gulped here - "the pressure makes the process most enjoyable," Damian said thoughtfully.

"Does it," Alfred said, willing his tears not to fall.

"Yes," Damian said. "When I have a series of tasks that must be repeatedly executed with skill and finesse -" he slid another rose onto the cake - "it is relaxing," he said.

"When I had to assassinate someone and I would be thinking about how to hold the knife and how to approach my target and how to slit the throat with the right amount of pressure and the right angle to avoid getting blood on my clothes," little Damian said as Alfred swallowed, "then I wasn't thinking about who I was killing, or why, or that I was killing someone at all," Damian said.

"So I like this very much," he continued, forming another rose, "because it reminds me of that peaceful way of feeling inside. But instead of killing someone I am making a cake. So, I enjoy it more," he said.

"Indeed, Master Damian," Alfred murmured, surreptitiously dabbing his eyes with a dishtowel behind Damian's back.

"And," Alfred said, clearing his throat a little bit, "with cake decorating, there is not only the mastery of each skill, but the art form itself. Color composition, arrangement of elements, creating a unified theme, and so on," he said. "It becomes an artistic expression."

"Yes," Damian said pensively. "Killing was like that, too. Creating your own signature style and flair. But this is better," he said again.

"Indeed," Alfred croaked out around the lump in his throat. "Indeed."

* * *

"How are you doing, babe?" Jason asked Harley. He had gone off into the woods a small ways from their van to give both Bane and himself some privacy for their phone calls.

"Better," Harley said, slowly letting out a deep breath as she sat on her bed in Bruce's guest room. "I didn't mean to freak Bruce and the kids out like that earlier."

"Well, I'm just happy you're feeling better and you got out of that loop you were stuck in," Jason said seriously. "I'm really glad you stayed with Pops this week," he said. "I never thought I'd be saying that, though," he laughed.

"I know," Harley laughed with him. "I thought Bane was the worst for asking me to stay over here, but…"

"Eh, he's a smart guy," Jason said with a smile. "Maybe it wasn't only for Bruce after all that he asked."

"Maybe not," Harley said, smiling too as she leaned back into her pillows. "And honestly… your dad's not so bad, Jay," she said. "Not that I'm denying or excusing what he did to you back then. But I kind of like him, now."

"I know," Jason said. "I get it. I mean, he majorly fucked up and fucked me up back then, but… he's not the same person anymore who he was back then. I appreciate that he's trying to do better. And shit," he said, his voice clogging up a little bit with tears, "I loved him back then, Harls. Like seriously loved him. He was my hero. That's why I put the mask on, you know? I wanted to live up to everything he was and make him proud."

"Yeah," Harley said softly. "Well, it's nice that you two are figuring out how to rebuild something from the ashes."

"Yeah," Jay echoed. Harley sighed.

"Steph told me something really rough today," she admitted. "I didn't have time to go into it with you before dinner, but… one of Arthur's friends tried to rape her when she was a kid and appearances suggest that Arthur killed the fucker."

"Good for him," Jay said enthusiastically.

"Right?" Harley said. "But she feels guilty about it. I didn't have much to offer her, either. Maybe I've been killing people for too long, Jay," Harley sighed. "As a psychologist, I should have been able to understand that angle and help her through it. But all I could think of was why in God's name would she feel guilty that a blight was removed from the earth?"

"Well, it's been a rough day for you," Jason said empathetically. "Maybe you're too close to it right now. I can try talking to her about it when I get back. Bane probably will, too, if you ask him."

"As long as it doesn't trigger you two and drag you back down into your own stuff," Harley said cautiously. "Honestly, she ought to get real therapy, but Lord knows vigilantes can't be honest about anything to an outsider."

"I know," Jay said. "It's too bad you can't treat family members," he added, thinking about the psychology books he'd waded through that Harley had recommended to him, and the trauma management skills that she'd taught him that helped him contain his memories and manage his flashbacks better.

They walked a fine line as a couple; Harley rightfully refusing to become his therapist due to the power imbalance it would cause in their relationship, but still trying her best as his wife and partner and friend to help him find healing. But Jay suspected that she would be far less willing to even do as much as she did for him with anyone else. She had a strict sense of ethics that had perhaps gotten even more rigid after what the Joker had done to her and she was extremely sensitive to the damage that she could cause her loved ones if she blurred boundaries.

"Gotham really needs a dedicated vigilante psychologist," Harley sighed. "Although, honestly, it's not even ethical for a therapist to treat members of the same family, so we'd need what, like a thousand," she groused. Jason laughed.

"Not that many, baby," he said.

"Not yet," Harley said. "But give Bruce a few years and see how many more kids he adopts." Jason snorted.

* * *

Floyd leaned over from his gargoyle perch to show his phone to Killer Croc in the middle of the somewhat quiet Gotham night. Apparently, having the Suicide Squad on Batpatrol was a real crime deterrent, because after Floyd had followed through a couple of times on his threats to shoot criminals in their kneecaps (and once Killer Frost had gotten the videos posted to YouTube), it seemed that most of the Gotham riff-raff had decided to take the week off and wait for the Bat's contract with the team to be up.

"See here, Waylon, this is my kid coloring those pictures I used to draw her," Floyd said, showing off a picture from his weekend trip to STAR City to meet his baby girl for the first time in person.

"She's beautiful," Croc said, taking in the brown-skinned toddler's chubby cheeks and huge smile. "Good thing she takes after her mama," he laughed. "Cuz you're so fuckin' ugly," he cackled as Deadshot smacked the back of his head.

"That's not even fair, man," Floyd complained. "If I try to crap on what your future kids are gonna look like, you're gonna call me a specist and cry crocodile tears and play up your disability and shit."

"Because you'd be an asshole if you talked about my kids taking after me," Waylon growled.

"I just said that, didn't I?" Deadshot snarked back. "My point was, you gotta pick on me about something else because I can't take a fair shot back at you. So that makes you the asshole."

"Ehhh," Croc scoffed lazily. "I need another coffee before I can come up with more insults. You're gonna have to live with it. Or," he said, getting a gleam in his eye. "I could compliment your beautiful eyes, instead. To make up for it," he said, flicking his lizard like tongue out to lick his lips.

"Shut up, man," Floyd laughed. "Save that shit for Len." Croc snorted.

"I'll save it for June, thank you very much. I don't cheat on my lady. No matter how beautiful a certain man's eyes may be," Croc said, fluttering his scaly eyelids as Floyd cackled.

"What she sees in you," he said.

"My pure soul," Croc said smugly.

"Or else she's enchanting the shit out of your appearance," Floyd said thoughtfully. Croc shoved him, but not quite hard enough to knock him off of the gargoyle to his death. It still made Floyd yelp though. "Man, cut that shit out!" he said, giving him a dirty look as he clutched the gargoyle's neck tighter.

"You're the one sitting on its back like we're on a goddamn merry-go-round," Waylon said from his much less precarious position seated on the stone railing, his legs swinging casually off of the side of the building into the dark abyss below them.

"Hey, I gotta practice for when I take Kiara to the zoo," Floyd grinned. "Besides, I've been wanting to sit on these since the first time I came to Gotham."

"So why haven't you before now?" Croc asked, trying vainly to get a few last drops of caffeine from his cardboard cup.

"Cause me and the Bat have always been on the outs, that's why," Deadshot said. "I didn't need his sneaky ass following me up here and shoving me off. Like you just tried to do."

"He would've at least caught your legs with a batarang doohickey before you hit the ground, though," Croc said. "I would've just taken a video of you falling."

"You're an asshole," Floyd said.

"So are you," Waylon said back peacefully.

"So are you and June gonna have kids, or what?" Floyd asked him. Croc sighed.

"I dunno, man. She kinda wants them and I wouldn't mind but… I don't want them turning out like me. You know? Plus whatever freaky shit she's got going on. I don't know if it's hereditary or if she's possessed."

"I always figured it was an inter-dimensional alien type thing," Floyd mused, thinking of June's alter ego Enchantress, who seemed to possess magical abilities.

"Yeah, maybe," Croc said, kicking his heels against the balustrade. "But is it a separate alien that swaps places with her? Or did she get alien DNA fused with hers that she'd pass on to our kids? Anyway, they'd probably turn out like me no matter what and I can't see doing that to a kid," he said. "I sure as hell wish it hadn't happened to me."

"Aw, you ain't so bad, Lyle, Lyle," Floyd said encouragingly, reaching over to pat his friend on his large scaly back.

"My aunt thought I was," Waylon said. "I don't ever want my kids called the kind of names she called me."

"Oh," Floyd said, sobering. "That's shitty."

"Yeah," Croc grunted. "And the names were when she was being nice." Floyd was quiet for a minute.

"I could go kill her for you," he said seriously. "Where's she at?" Waylon looked over at Deadshot, surprisingly touched.

"I already killed her," he said. "When I was a teenager."

"Good," Floyd said. "That's more than I was able to do to my mom," he admitted.

"What'd your mom do?" Croc asked him. Floyd slid his gaze slowly over to the side without turning his head.

"If you'd have asked me when I was a kid, I would've said my dad was the abuser. Yelling at us, beating us, my brother and me and my mom. Alcoholic. The works. You know," he said and Croc nodded.

"But…" Floyd paused, flicking his eyes to face straight ahead. "My mom got it in her head that my dad had to die. But she wasn't gonna do it. Oh, no. Her precious hands had to stay clean," he mocked. "Me and Eddie had to do it."

"Shit," Croc said, sitting up a little straighter. Floyd shook his head slowly.

"No," he said. "That wasn't the … Eddie locked me in the boathouse," he said. "To keep me out of it. I didn't want him to do it, though. He was too good for that," he muttered. "I broke out and took one of the hunting rifles with me. I climbed a tree to get the shot off. I was just going to disarm him," he said quietly. "I was just going to…"

Waylon stared at him, horrified.

"You missed?" he said after a minute.

"The tree branch broke," Floyd mumbled. "Eddie died and my father the asshole lived. And I swore I would never miss another shot," he said, finally turning his head to look at Croc.

"Fuck," Waylon said quietly.

"Yep," Floyd said.

"I'll kill _your _mom," Waylon offered. "Hell, I'll even bite her in the jugular. Just for you." Floyd giggled.

"Don't tempt me," he said. "My therapist has worked very hard to get me to let go of the need to kill her."

"Come on," Waylon teased. "I know how you like seeing me chomp into stuff. Remember how much fun it was seeing me bite Fugit's hand off?"

"Man, you're making it sound like a porn addiction. Stop," Floyd said, starting to laugh. "I don't get off on you biting people."

"You like it, though," Waylon grinned at him.

"Not in a porno way, asshole," Floyd said.

"You're the asshole," Waylon said back.

"You wish," Deadshot grumbled. "You wanna go get some beers after we're done tonight?"

"Yeah," said Croc. "I do."

* * *

"Hey, Vik," Arthur Brown said to Viktor Frieze as he passed his cell late at night on the way back from the showers. One of Arthur's new perks was an unlocked cell and the ability to free range most of the prison, and while he missed having his Squad around, he was grateful to Harley for the upgraded privileges.

"Ah, Arthur," Mr. Freeze said, looking up from his massive science tome that he was reading by the dimly glowing lights on his cold suit. "Good evening to you."

"I wanted to say thank you for helping Harley out with that gig for my kid," Arthur said. "I really appreciate it."

"But of course," Viktor said. "Children can be so cruel, eh?" he said. "I hope her situation will improve."

"Me, too," Arthur said. "Good night."

"Gute Nacht, mein Freund," Viktor said back.

As Arthur walked back to his cell, he thought about receiving the call from Harley over the weekend about Steph being bullied at that fancy-ass school Bruce Wayne had her in. He had been shaken to realize that Steph was no longer living with her mom. He hadn't even asked Harley to check up on them since Her Majesty been out of Arkham, figuring his ex and his kid didn't want him snooping around.

And maybe, if he was being honest, maybe hearing an update on their lives would have stung too much knowing that they wanted nothing to do with him anymore. Yeah, he knew Crystal popped pain pills like candy, but so what? She'd always been more or less functional, never missing work, and he'd assumed that things would get better for her and Steph after he was in Arkham.

But that was him being a selfish prick again, he'd realized when Harley had called him. It was him trying to ease his own pain with the bliss of ignorance. Because despite all the turmoil he and Crystal had gone through in their marriage, it had ripped his heart up to hear that she was living on the streets somewhere using, maybe even dead, and he hadn't even known or been there for Steph. He'd cried like a baby after he got off the phone with Harley, feeling helpless and hating himself.

At least Steph had gotten herself adopted, or custodied, or whatever it was, by Gotham's favorite billionaire. Shit. She'd be sitting pretty now.

At least he would have thought. But Harley had said no, she was being bullied by the rich kids and even sexually harassed. When he asked her how she'd found that out, Harley had vaguely mentioned installing spycams in the school. She'd wanted to make sure that Steph didn't have any fallout when the Suicide Squad went viral and old Arthur Brown became a certified hero, and instead Harley had uncovered all this festering bullshit being levied at his little girl.

As if Steph needed sexual harassment. God, that was the last thing she needed, Arthur thought guiltily. Fuck.

But at least Harley fixed it. She was a good egg, Harley Quinn - er, Harley Hood, that was. Always looking out for people, taking care of her team and their families, too. She did right by people and Arthur hoped that one day Steph would see that her old man had started trying to do right, too.

He'd have to keep better tabs on her from now on. Make sure no one was causing her any more problems. Ask Harley to give him updates on her every few weeks from the school spycams.

He'd stay out of Steph's line of sight, though; Arthur knew better than to go pushing himself onto the daughter he'd pushed away, but he'd make sure he was taking better care of her from now on. Even if it was from a distance.


	28. Chapter 28

_**Chapter 28**_

"Bane and Jason should be back late tomorrow night," Bruce said the next afternoon to Tim, Steph, and Damian as they ate brunch in the kitchen with Harley and Alfred.

Tim and Steph had both gotten another day off from school as it turned out, because there had been significant water damage from the ice that "Mr. Freeze" had coated their classroom with in the Suicide Squad's anti-bullying escapade. Their class had the rest of the week off, in fact, so that Gotham Prep could both restore their classroom (and the one underneath it that the melting water had leaked into) and so that they could provide counseling at an off-site location for the traumatized students.

Not that any of the actually traumatized students would be honest with their therapists about what had really happened in class on Monday. That night, Tim had thoughtfully tagged each and every one of his classmates in Killer Frost's YouTube video of Deadshot's kneecap target practice in case they needed a reminder that snitches got stitches.

Of course, he had tagged Steph and Alana and Dillon, too, so as not to arouse any suspicion, and he had captioned the video montage "Gotham's new heroes!" He and Steph had giggled with glee when he posted it on his feed and Alana and Dillon, their previous non-bullies and now new friends had both liked the video and posted happy comments about how badass Deadshot was and how accurate his aim was, and from such long distances, too!

Steph had gotten up early the next morning for her ankle x-ray, which Alfred had taken her to with Steph's brand-new boyfriend Tim cheerfully tagging along. She had ended up needing to get the bones re-set due to the ass-kicking which she had dished out the day before to Brad and Winston (although of course to the doctors, she had blamed it on her supposed kidnapping), but she hadn't needed surgery, so even though she was in some pain, it could have been worse. Although she grumbled a little bit when Alfred refused the oxycontin due to Bruce's prior instructions.

"Now, Miss Stephanie," Alfred had gently scolded her after the doctor had left the exam room. "You of all people do not need oxycontin, hm? Addiction runs in your family, young miss."

"I wouldn't abuse it, though," she said. "My mom popped them for years and years and they only want to give me two pills."

"Nevertheless," Alfred said. "Why give yourself an experience you may later crave in times of stress? You need to learn to be cautious now before you are old enough to make your own foolish decisions."

"He's right, Steph," Tim had said seriously. "I don't ever want to lose you like you lost your mom."

"Oh," Steph said, looking into Tim's anxious but loving eyes. "Well, all right. If it worries you, then I won't ever take it."

Tim smiled happily as he reached down to gently interlock their fingers before bending in to softly kiss her on the lips as Alfred beamed approvingly as Steph's decision.

"Thank you," Tim said to Steph as he lightly swung their hands together. "You mean too much to me and your mom's addiction scares me. Plus, given our extra-curricular activities, you're likely to be offered oxy a lot as an adult."

"Yeah, I guess that's true," Steph had said. "But you can't take it either if I'm not. Fair's fair," she grinned.

"I won't," Tim promised her.

It had been late morning by the time the trio had returned to the manor and the teens had started helping Alfred prepare brunch so that it would be ready by the time that Bruce, Damian, and Harley woke up. Since they had some extra time, Alfred had given the teens their first lesson in making quiche, which the family was now enjoying together as they chatted around the kitchen table.

"I will be glad to have Bane back home," Damian said after swallowing a bite of his food. "I did not think I would ever see him again before he came to live with us," he said. "But now I do not ever want him to leave."

"Well, maybe he won't," Bruce said with a suspiciously happy twinkle in his eye, which Harley noted along with the crinkle at the corner of his lips. She caught Bruce's eye and smiled at him over her mug of coffee. Her smile widened when Bruce gave her the tiniest of smiles back.

"You look happy," Steph said to Bruce.

"Indeed," Alfred commented with a sly smile as he gazed fondly at Bruce.

"You and Tim look happy, too," Bruce said calmly, looking over at the two teens who had been nothing but smiles since the day before.

"We look happy because we're dating," Steph significantly. "Is there something you want to tell us, B?"

Damian looked up and furrowed his little brow.

"What are you insinuating, Stephanie Brown?" he asked her.

"She thinks that Bane and your dad are dating," Tim said helpfully as he stabbed his quiche with his fork.

"Really?" Damian said with interest. "Are you, Father?" Bruce huffed.

"First of all," he said to Tim with more humor than the teen was accustomed to hearing in his voice, "I am your father, too. In every way that counts except legally. And yours," he said, pointing to Steph as Tim smiled broadly.

"But that does not make them siblings," Bruce said quickly, turning to Damian. "It only means that I love them both like a father." Damian frowned.

"You told me previously that Tim and Steph were my siblings," he said.

"They are," Bruce said as Harley bit her lip to hold back a giggle. "They are both _your _siblings, but they're not each other's. Because siblings don't date each other," he said. "Tim and Steph were two friends first long before they both moved in with me and they've never been more to each other than friends."

"Excuse me!" Steph protested. "We are much more to each other now than friends."

"Ok, yes, romantically," Bruce said, rolling his eyes a little bit. "Stop confusing Damian."

"Pretty sure you're the one who confused him," Tim said as Damian stared uncomprehendingly at his father. Bruce sighed as Harley snickered. Alfred peacefully sipped his tea and stayed out of it.

"Look, son, Tim and Steph are your siblings because they were already living here when you moved in and you've grown up with them as your brother and sister," Bruce tried to explain. "But they weren't raised with each other and they were interested in each other romantically when they both ended up living here and that's stayed the same for them. Does that make sense?"

"I suppose," Damian said. "I understand that people who feel like they are siblings would not date each other," he said. "So I would not ever want to date either Timothy Drake or Stephanie Brown when I am older," he said as the two teens both snickered at the idea.

"Yes," Bruce said with relief. "But to each other, Tim and Steph felt like friends and now they are dating. And I feel like a father to both of them despite that."

"Like you do to Barbara and Dick," Damian said calmly. "Who are also my siblings. And dating. And both consider you a father." Bruce groaned as the teens and Harley dissolved into laughter while Alfred smiled indulgently.

"Should have led with that, Brucie," Harley giggled.

"Yeah, way to overcomplicate things," Steph laughed. "And way to avoid the question about Bane. Are you dating? Tell us!" she demanded. Bruce sighed, but not with annoyance.

"Yes, we agreed to date each other," he said with a tiny smile and much more pride than embarrassment.

"Yay!" Steph shrieked as Tim yelled "I knew it!" Harley gave Bruce a quiet knowing smile and Alfred actually teared up and breached etiquette to stand up from the table and walk over to kiss the top of Bruce's head.

"My boy," he murmured in Bruce's ear as he hugged around his shoulders and patted his cheek. "I have hoped for so long that heartbreak would not be the end of your journey," he said, and then Bruce was choking up, too, as he clasped his strong hand over Alfred's wrinkled one.

"I had given up hope," Bruce mumbled under his breath just for Alfred's ears.

"Hmph," Alfred said gently. "A benefit to old age, then. Never losing sight of how unexpectedly easy a new beginning can be, no matter how hidden it may remain before suddenly appearing." Bruce blinked away his tears as Alfred returned to his seat with one last kiss to his son's head.

As he cleared his eyes, he saw Damian regarding him with a thoughtful look.

"Son?" Bruce asked him. "How do you feel about me dating Bane?"

"Pleased," Damian said calmly. "Now he will be my father, too, and not just my friend."

"Yes," said Bruce.

"And he will always stay with us?" Damian asked him.

"I expect so," Bruce said. Why bother to pretend? he thought to himself, thinking of Harley and Jason's hasty marriage. For someone in the vigilante business, there wasn't much use denying the obviousness of a relationship that worked.

"Good," said Damian, returning to his quiche. He paused with his fork mid-air, however, which was most unlike him, and turned his eyes to Harley.

"Rob said he would be my father, too," he informed her, using his name for Jason that Talia had given him during his time with the League of Assassins. "During our phone conversations this week."

"I know," Harley smiled at him. "He told me. He was so touched that you think of him like that, Damian, and that you forgive him."

"Yes," Damian said. "Does that make you my mother?" Harley spit her mouthful of coffee across the table and coughed violently. Alfred silently handed her a napkin before standing to fetch a sponge and dishtowel. Harley's huge eyes met Bruce's amused ones.

"Um, I don't know," Harley said after she quickly wiped her mouth off. "I ain't never been anybody's mother," she said nervously.

"Bullshit," Bruce said firmly. Her eyes flew up to him. "You parent two-thirds of Gotham, Harley Todd Hood," Bruce said to her. "The Suicide Squad? Steph? The guards at Gotham? Bane? Half the villains I've locked up? And all the people you make amends to, whether they know you're looking out for them or not." Harley blinked at him.

"You're already a damn fine mother," Bruce said authoritatively. "And hell yes, you're Damian's mother, too."

"And yours," Steph said to Bruce with a wicked smile.

"No," Bruce said flatly, raising his eyebrows and surprising Steph. "Harley is my daughter." He looked across at her and was surprised to see tears forming in her eyes. She smiled bashfully at him.

"Yeah, I kinda like havin' you as my pops, Brucie," she admitted. "You're not so bad at it, anymore." Bruce felt his heart expand with emotion.

"That means quite a lot, coming from you," he said in a low voice and Harley nodded, knowing that he was thinking of how he had accidentally abused and traumatized Jason as a child through his inept parenting.

"And to be fair," Harley said, clearing her throat, "Bane is more like my brother than my kid. 'Cause he takes care of me, too."

"Still," Bruce said with a tease in his voice. "That leaves a hell of a lot of people who you parent pretty damn well, Harley. Damian will be in good hands with you."

"Well, ok, kid," Harley said, looking down at the little seven-year-old who was looking pleased at her new role. "I'll do my best, ok?" she told him and Damian nodded.

"I believe that you will be adequate," he said and Tim snorted.

"Hey," Steph said, leaning into Tim's arm. "That is a remarkable demonstration of faith from Damian," she laughed up into his face.

"Not disagreeing," Tim said, smiling back at his cute girlfriend. "Still laughing at him, though."

"Tt," Damian said. "When you have mastered adequacy, Timothy Drake, you shall understand what a monumental achievement it is."

Steph busted out laughing so hard that she had to lean back in her chair so she could hold her stomach as it shook. Tim laughed a little bit, too.

"Damian, I will never get a big ego as Batman with you as my Robin," he said.

"Indeed you will not," Damian said calmly. "Nor shall you have a big ego when I am Batman and you are my Robin."

"Excuse me?" said Tim, his jaw dropping. "That's not how it works, Damian."

"Nonsense," said Damian. "I am your superior and it is only my age which shall limit me from being Batman before you. Therefore, when I am old enough, I shall become Batman and you shall return to your rightful role as Robin."

"I'm not Robin, anymore," Tim said, with an actual Batgrowl sneaking into his voice, which caused Bruce to give him a surprised albeit impressed look, although Tim didn't notice it due to his intense staring contest with Damian.

"I'm Batboy," Tim growled. "Because I'm going to become Bat_man_. Robins fly away and I'm not leaving."

"Nor am I," said Damian with equal intensity, drawing his eyebrows together fiercely.

"Not all Robins fly away," Bruce pointed out. "Robin himself never leaves Gotham. Or Batman." The two boys flicked their eyes to him dismissively before snapping them back to glare at each other.

Harley raised an eyebrow and looked at Bruce, who was beginning to look like he was floundering for an idea as to how to intervene and coming up short. Steph was chewing on the inside of her cheek to fight back her giggles. But it was Alfred who spoke after taking a leisurely sip of his tea.

"It would be a shame to let your considerable skill at cake decorating fall by the wayside for the sake of a title, Master Damian," Alfred said casually. "Gotham is in dire need of a truly refined, top-tier bakery. Do you know that we as a society import our special occasion cakes from Metropolis? _Metropolis_," he scoffed as if it was a curse word. "I shudder every time I see that wretched van before an event," he said with haughty disdain.

"But of course, Batman would not have the time for such pursuits," Alfred mused as Damian's eyes narrowed. "Robin would, however. Especially if Batman were to take on additional sidekicks in the future."

Four pairs of eyes turned to look at Alfred as he calmly took another sip of tea while Damian stared him down.

"And of course," Alfred sighed, "Master Timothy does not possess your skill with confectionery."

"Indeed he does not," Damian said sharply. He glanced at Bruce. "You would not be disappointed, Father, if I do not take up your mantle one day?"

"Of course not," Bruce said quickly. "You don't even have to become a vigilante at all if you don't want to," he said, although Damian scoffed at that ridiculous notion. "I want you to do whatever makes you happiest," Bruce said. "All of you," he added, looking over to Tim and Steph, too.

"Hmph," Damian said. "Then perhaps I shall consider your suggestion, Grandfather. As I am already demonstrating a remarkable aptitude for cake decorating."

Alfred was sitting speechless, staring at Damian with watery eyes. Bruce glanced at Alfred.

"Yes, your cakes are already amazing," Bruce said to Damian when Alfred appeared to be rendered mute. "Aren't they, Alfred?" Bruce said pointedly.

"Yes," Alfred murmured. "Yes, indeed," he said, and pulled out a handkerchief to dab his eyes. "Am I to understand that I am your grandfather now, Master Damian?" he asked his young charge in a slightly quavery voice.

"You have always been my grandfather," Damian said. "You are Father's father, are you not?" Alfred's eyes shot to Bruce's, but Bruce was already answering Damian.

"Yes," Bruce said. "Of course he is. Of course you are," he said more quietly, looking over at Alfred with a warm smile. "You know you are," he added as Alfred gave him a shaky smile back.

"Did I displease you by calling you Grandfather, Alfred?" Damian said, frowning.

"Not at all, my boy," Alfred said. "Not at all. Quite the opposite, in fact," he said with a braver smile for Damian emerging from his tears. "I was merely taken aback by the change in title."

"Oh," said Damian, looking relieved that he had not made a faux pas. "Are Grandfathers not the ones whom grandsons inherit the family empire from?" Bruce gave Damian an odd look and sent a questioning glance to Harley, who shook her head slightly in confusion.

"Had I remained with my Mother, I would have inherited the League of Assassins from my Grandfather Ra's one day," Damian explained. "And like Ra's, you are training me in your craft, Grandfather. And like Ra's, you believe that I can master Gotham with my skill when I am grown." Bruce choked. "Although Ra's believed that I could master the world," Damian said.

"And I should like to know why you cannot master the world with your baking skill, Master Damian," Alfred said, truly offended. "There are baking competitions, you know," he said.

"Oh, no," Bruce quietly muttered.

"Competitions?" Damian said, instantly perking up. "For cake decorating?"

"Yes, indeed," Alfred said, warming up to the subject. "As well as magazine cover shoots to pursue. Television shows. Royal weddings. I should like to know why my grandson could not provide the cake for the next wedding at Windsor," Alfred said, really ramping up now.

"Am I not British? Is my grandson not therefore a British baker by extension?" Alfred postulated grandly, gesturing for emphasis.

"Alfred," Bruce whispered into his hands, dipping his head as Harley silently laughed and Tim and Steph looked on, incredibly amused. Damian looked as eager as a predator who had just caught its prey napping.

"Of course I am a British baker," Damian said, nodding his head eagerly. "And an al Ghul. Your royals shall eat my blade if they will not eat my cake," he said with ruthless glee.

"Too far, son," Bruce said dryly.

"Hmph," said Damian. "Then they shall eat an inferior baker's cake which I shall poison to teach them a lesson in quality control."

"No," said Bruce.

"Obviously not, Master Damian," Alfred tutted. "No one would choose another baker's cake over yours once I have finished training you."

Damian's eyes glittered as a wicked smile spread across his face.

"Then I shall apply myself most assiduously to your instruction, Grandfather," Damian said. "As well as to becoming Robin."

"Dear God," Bruce murmured. Harley beamed.

"Well," she said brightly. "As Damian's mother, I highly approve of this choice of career paths. Except for the Robin part," she frowned.

"As Damian's future Batman, I also approve," Tim said with a genuine smile. "Of all the parts. Robin included."

"As the once and future Batgirl," Steph said with grandiosity matching Alfred's, "and as the future Mrs. Bat, I, too, stamp this plan with my seal of approval."

Bruce looked around the table.

"You all need to remember that winning competitions and being the best is not everything in life," he said severely. "And you shouldn't encourage Damian to think that way, either. It's wonderful that you want to be a cake decorator, son," he said to Damian more gently. "But you mustn't lose sight of why you're doing it."

"To carry on Grandfather's legacy?" Damian asked him doubtfully. "To establish dominance in Gotham?" he guessed again. Bruce shook his head.

"Do you enjoy it?" he asked him.

"Yes," Damian said immediately. "Very much. It makes me feel peaceful inside. And pleased with what I have created when I am done."

"Then that's why you do it," Bruce said. "No other reason."

"So I cannot compete in competitions?" Damian said in a sad voice. Alfred tsk'd but Bruce ignored him.

"Maybe you can, one day," he said to Damian. "But only if you can handle being a good loser. Without threatening to burn the kitchens down and murder your opponents and the judges if they don't pick you as the winner."

"Ok," Damian sighed. He looked sad for a minute but then he perked up again. "Bane can help me prepare for that part," he said. "Like he did when I burned the pancakes."

"Yes," Bruce said, a warm happiness bubbling up inside of him at the knowledge that Bane would be there in the future, not only with him but with his family, too. Their family, now. "Bane would be good at helping with that."

"I think you wouldn't be half bad at helping, either, Bruce," Harley said with a smile. As Bruce looked around the table at the happy, smiling faces of his family, he thought that maybe he could begin to believe her.


	29. Chapter 29

_**Chapter 29**_

Bruce and the Batlings looked up eagerly the next night when the elevator doors opened around one a.m. while Harley and the Suicide Squad were out on patrol.

Huge smiles broke out on Bruce and Damian's faces. A pleased smile decorated Tim's face as he saw Bane, although he was feeling slightly nervous about facing the previously antagonistic Jason. Steph's grin had nothing to do with welcoming home either Bane or Jason, but was in eager anticipation of Bruce and Bane's first romantic reunion - indeed, their first romantic interlude at all, since they had made the decision to date over a phone call.

Bane's eyes flew straight to Bruce as he and Jason exited the elevator, and the slightly hesitant but warm hopefulness in Bane's gaze made Bruce's decidedly no longer stony heart melt as he shot a heated look straight into his new boyfriend's eyes, causing Bane's face to crease in a warm smile.

"Baba! Bane!" Damian yelled happily, leaping down from Bruce's lap, Osito in hand, to run towards Jason and Bane. Bruce stood up to follow him, side-eyeing a giggling Steph as he went.

"Kiss your own boyfriend and mind your business," he growled at her, although the teasing gleam in his eye and the crinkling at the corner of his lips softened his words. Steph started laughing even harder but Tim decided to take Bruce's advice literally and bounced up from his chair to plop down into Steph's lap.

"Tim!" she squawked in surprise but her protest was drowned out as Tim began enthusiastically making out with her. "Tim," she giggled against his lips when she got her wits about her.

"They need some privacy," Tim smiled at her as he stroked the back of her head with the hand he had looped around her neck, drawing back from Steph's mouth only to answer her before going back to kissing her. Steph sighed into him and decided that maybe she didn't need to spy on Bruce and Bane so badly after all.

Bane wanted to keep his eyes locked with Bruce, but Damian and Osito were scampering up the catwalk so he bent to give his little friend a hug as Bruce made his way up a little more slowly so that his tiny son could have his moment with his two best friends-slash-fathers.

"Little Bat! And Osito," Bane was saying as he cuddled Damian to his chest and kissed the top of each of their heads. "I have missed you," he said.

"I missed you too, Bane," Damian said seriously. "But Father says you won't be leaving us anymore," he added, his eyes sparkling. Bane looked up into the approaching Bruce's tender but intense gaze.

"No," said Bane slowly as Bruce's smile grew. "I do not believe that I will." Damian smiled and hugged him a little tighter before turning to Jason.

"Baba!" he said with even more enthusiasm as Jason bent and scooped Damian and Osito up into his arms.

"Habibi," Jason murmured, his eyes full of tears as he snuggled Damian into him. Bruce's eyes went to his older son's for a moment with proud approval at Damian's endearment for him and Jason gave him a slightly guilty smile back. Bruce surprised him by stepping forward to kiss his cheek before greeting Bane.

"No one can have too many fathers," Bruce said gently as Damian clung to Jason's neck. "I'm glad that my boys have each other," he added as Jason blinked and nodded.

"Thanks, Pops," he said hoarsely, and the forgiveness that Bruce saw in Jason's eyes choked him up, too. "We'll talk later," Jason said to him with a little smile as he glanced towards the patiently waiting Bane, who was smiling at Jason and Damian as paternally as Bruce was.

"Come on, munch," Jason said to Damian, carrying him down towards the Batcomputer with a final wink for Bruce. "You've got to tell me more about your plans to take over the world with frosting."

"Frosting and fondant," Damian corrected him as they went. "And sometimes sugarwork. Grandfather has been expanding my curriculum since I talked to you yesterday."

Bane chuckled lightly as Jason and Damian moved away, giving him and Bruce some space. Bane was looking a bit shy, which surprised Bruce since Bane had been the confident one in their dynamic prior to leaving on his road trip. However, their previous interactions had been limited to friendship.

"Come here," Bruce said softly with his arms out, stepping into Bane's space before things had a chance to get awkward. Bane let out a long exhale as Bruce wrapped his arms around his massive chest and melted into his arms, finally molding himself easily around his friend, although this time Bruce was the one offering the strength in his arms as he gave Bane a tight and reassuring hug.

"Welcome home, boyfriend," Bruce murmured to him, turning his head to brush his lips over Bane's stubbled cheek. Which caused said cheeks to turn red, but despite that Bane dared to reach a hand higher to cradle the back of Bruce's head, pressing his face closer into his neck as Bruce hummed happily into his throat.

"You must forgive me," Bane said with some embarrassment. "I am unused to romantic gestures."

"You're the king of hugs," Bruce chuckled softly against his warm skin before lifting his head to press a little kiss to Bane's lower jaw. "You'll pick it up fast."

"Mm," Bane murmured. "Your hugging skills have improved remarkably quickly in a short space of time," he said as he used one arm to snug Bruce's low back even tighter against him. "Perhaps I shall be as quick a study," he said with a growing twinkle in his eye.

"Let's go talk upstairs," Bruce said suddenly, pulling back questioningly.

"Yes," Bane said with relief. "That would be preferable."

Bruce glanced down at the Batcomputer and saw that Tim was still dutifully making out with Steph from his cozy perch on her lap, although it clearly wasn't a chore to either of the teens. In fact, they didn't seem to have even noticed that Jason and Damian had come down, although Bruce saw that Jason had thoughtfully taken Damian straight past the enraptured teens and over to the sparring mats where they were sitting together already deep in conversation and pouring over pictures on Damian's phone.

Bruce smiled up into Bane's eyes and reached for his hand, surprising him again, although Bane recovered quickly and shyly clasped Bruce's hand back as they entered the elevator.

"Where do you want to talk?" Bruce asked him as they ascended to the manor. Bane gave him a blank look so Bruce took the reins and suggested, "My study?" and Bane nodded his assent.

Bruce led the way, still holding Bane's hand in his, and politely disregarding his usually zen-like friend's nerves and embarrassment as they walked. Once in the study, Bruce pulled Bane down next to him onto the leather sofa, keeping his hand in his as they sat shoulder to shoulder.

Bane sighed and met Bruce's eyes with a troubled gaze.

"I must confess, Bruce," Bane said slowly as Bruce traced patterns on his palm with a thumb, "I am very new to romance. I feel… most out of my comfort zone," he admitted.

"But you're still sure…?" Bruce asked him, searching his face.

"Of course!" Bane said at once. "Yes," he said with a smile that only grew more charming with the added color in his cheeks. "Quite sure," he added, squeezing Bruce's fingers a little more boldly with his own. "But, quite out of my element, I am afraid," he said regretfully.

Bruce gave a soft chuckle.

"Well, you've got a foot up on me on most things these days," he said. "It's only fair that I'm better at one thing." Bane let out a relieved and hearty laugh.

"Bruce, Bruce," Bane said. "You bring me so much joy." Bruce raised a very quizzical Bat-eyebrow at him.

"_I _bring you _joy_?" he said doubtfully.

"Much joy," Bane said more seriously, meeting Bruce's blue eyes with his dark brown ones, and even lifting his right hand to trace down the side of Bruce's face. "I think you do not realize how much light you possess, my friend," Bane said gently as Bruce's breath hitched under the path of his fingers.

"I think you don't realize just how good you are at romance," Bruce countered with a saucy smile, reaching his own left hand up to cradle Bane's cheek as he leaned in to brush their lips together lightly before gently sucking Bane's lower lip into his mouth. Bane's breath caught as Bruce explored his lips with light nibbles and kisses before slipping his hand to the back of Bane's neck to hold his head more firmly as he deepened the kiss.

Bane let out a little moan as Bruce's tongue found its way into his mouth, and even though it was with tentative inexperience, Bane began kissing Bruce back. Bruce moaned, too, then, as he shifted his hips and dropped Bane's hand so that he could wrap his right arm around Bane's neck as their kissing grew more heated.

The happy squiggles that had been chasing Bruce's heart around all week seemed ready to leap out of his chest as he kissed his enemy turned friend turned boyfriend. He had never kissed a man before, but Bruce was both relieved and ecstatic to find that it was as good as his feelings for Bane had led him to hope that it would be.

Because his stomach and groin were tightening with a familiar heat, and ripples of electricity were shooting from his lips and tongue to his cock, and while he still didn't exactly know how sex with Bane would work out logistically in terms of roles and who put what where, Bruce suddenly felt a lot better that it would, in fact, work out and end up being fantastic.

Maybe with some practice; ok, he could be humble enough to assume that not quite everything might translate immediately; and Bruce was starting to suspect that Bane was quite inexperienced indeed, which meant that it might take some extra time to figure out how to make sex great for him, too, but, well, they'd be figuring things out together, in that case. And Bruce, at least, wasn't shy in bed.

Hell, it _was_ nice to have something that he felt more confident in than Bane. Not that he begrudged Bane any of his wisdom or serenity, but Bruce didn't want to be their relationship's damsel-in-distress to Bane's white knight. It was nice to be able to bring a strength to the relationship. Although apparently, he brought joy, too, which was honestly befuddling. Bane seemed to mean it, however, although for the life of him Bruce couldn't imagine why.

When they finally broke apart panting, Bane rested his forehead on Bruce's for a long minute as their breath intermingled.

"How fast do you want to take this?" Bruce asked him when he broke the silence. He gently traced his hand over Bane's pecs through his shirt. "Be honest," he said. "I won't mind, whatever you say." Bane snorted.

"I am not a virgin, Bruce," he said. "If that is what you are inferring." Bruce laughed, but he still looked concerned as he searched Bane's face.

"You haven't done this a lot, though…?" he asked him, not needing his friend's complete sexual history but wanting to understand his reticence. Bane sighed.

"I did, at one point in my life," he murmured. "When I was addicted to the Venom," he said with a certain amount of disgust. "But… those trysts… let us say that they lacked all semblance of romance," he said morosely as Bruce's eyes softened sympathetically.

"Sex with sentiment?" Bane said to him. "Kissing? Hand holding? That, Bane has never done."

Bruce got a sappy pleased smile on his face.

"I'm the first person you've ever kissed?" he said and Bane blushed even deeper as he nodded without meeting Bruce's eyes.

"Hey," Bruce growled at him, catching Bane's jaw in his hand and forcing his eyes back to meet his own. "Don't be embarrassed, love," he said, moving forward to give Bane a sweet kiss. "I don't mind - at - all -" he told Bane, separating each word with a tiny peck on the lips, "being the first person who's had the privilege of kissing you." Bane relaxed slightly under Bruce's tender gaze and gave him a small smile.

"Although," Bruce continued with a teasing twinkle in his eye, "I intend to also be the last person who ever has the right to kiss you, so I'm sorry if you were hoping for more experience out of life." Bane huffed in mock offense.

"I am much younger than you, Bruce," he said. "You would deny Bane a second romance from the grave once you have withered and died?" Bruce busted out laughing, his stomach shaking so hard that he had to bury his face in Bane's shoulder as he collapsed in mirth.

Bane chuckled too, and wrapped his arms around Bruce to hold him there.

"I can see it now," Bane murmured against Bruce's curly hair as his partner continued to shake with laughter as Bane caressed his back. "Your ghost will haunt the manor, scaring away anyone who seeks to comfort poor, lonely Bane in his grief."

"Never," Bruce declared when he caught his breath as he curled into Bane. "I'll leave instructions for Harley and Jason to toss me into a Lazarus Pit and bring me back to you." Bane guffawed.

"Somehow I do not think that young Jason will be amenable to such a course of action," he said as he snuggled Bruce closer.

"Harley will be," Bruce said confidently. "She's a good daughter." Bane gave Bruce a genuine smile.

"You consider Harley to be your daughter, now?"

"I do," Bruce said peacefully. "Although she claims to be your sister. And Damian, my son, claims that Jason, also my son, is now his other father and that Harley is his mother by extension. So thank God we're homeschooling him," Bruce laughed. "Can you imagine if he got homework on his family tree?" Bane chuckled.

"Family is what you make it," he said.

"It is, indeed," Bruce mused. "You're Damian's father, too, now, you know," Bruce said, playing with the edges of Bane's tank top. "He claimed you, too."

"I am honored," Bane said with a smile. "Life is sometimes a truly miraculous gift, that I should be reunited with the Little Killer and now be so fortunate as to call him not only my tiny friend, but my son."

"You did a good thing, saving him," Bruce said quietly.

"Yes," Bane said soberly. He sighed. "I only wish I could have saved myself, at his age," he murmured.

"I wish I could have saved you, too," Bruce said more seriously, with a sharper edge to his voice. Bane met his eyes sadly but smiled at him.

"I know, mi cielo," he said. Bruce's eyes widened in pleasure at Bane's endearment.

"I do want to talk, at least a little bit, about your past before we have sex," Bruce said gently, squeezing his arm more tightly around Bane's chest. "I need to know what not to do, and I need you to know that you can always tell me to stop and I will."

Bane sighed.

"We will talk," he said. "Not tonight. Tomorrow, perhaps," he said. "Let us enjoy our reunion without such ugliness intruding."

"Of course," Bruce said lovingly. He began to shift, and then hesitated. "Can I put my legs in your lap?" he asked.

"Bruce," Bane said in wondrous joy. "Yes. Please," he smiled. Bruce smiled back at him as he shifted sideways to lift his legs up and over his boyfriend's thighs as Bane snugged his arm around him tighter. Bruce sighed happily as he laid his head down on Bane's shoulder and curled into his embrace.

"I never thought I would find love again," Bruce said contentedly.

"I never thought that I would find it at all," Bane answered. "Especially with the man who I was so unspeakably cruel to," he said with regret mixed with wonder. "How you can forgive me…"

"I do," Bruce said, palming his face. "Who you are now is so different than who you were when you broke my back. You becoming Batman saved my life, Bane," Bruce said honestly. "I was spiraling from learning Jason's truth. And you didn't only save me; you saved my family and my relationship with my son. I don't know where I would be if you hadn't insisted on making amends for that day."

"Well, they say that God works every situation out for your good if you love Him," Bane mused. Bruce gave him a guilty look.

"I don't know that I think about God very much," he said.

"Happily, I do," Bane said cheerfully. "And breaking your back has turned out for my greater good, in fact." Bruce laughed.

"All the same, I'd rather you didn't do it again."

"I suppose we must cross very rough sex off the list, then," Bane said with a straight face. Bruce raised an eyebrow at him as Bane began to chuckle.

"We'll have to make an actual list, you know," Bruce said easily once he grinned. "I've never had sex before with a man. It seems like there are many more… options," he said with a little chuckle.

"I am happy to bottom if that would be more comfortable for you," Bane said as he idly ran a hand down Bruce's arm.

"I would enjoy that," Bruce said with some relief. He had been a bit worried when some of his research indicated that many men preferred one or the other, and given that he enjoyed sex with vaginas… he wasn't sure how he'd feel about forgoing penetrative sex if Bane was opposed to bottoming.

"I would never want you to do something you do not enjoy," Bane said, meeting Bruce's eyes adamantly. "You must be truthful with me as we go forward."

"You, too, with me," Bruce said. "I'm pretty open to new experiences, though," he said. "I wouldn't mind trying anal. And I'm pretty sure that I'll enjoy giving you head," he said. "If you want it," he added quickly, remembering that he didn't yet know if Bane avoided certain acts due to his past abuse.

"We will make a list," Bane repeated, slightly avoiding the question, Bruce noticed, and was glad to let the topic rest for the night. For now, it was enough to be curled up in Bane's lap as Bane's head began to droop sleepily onto his own. Bane was home, and Bane was dating him, and together they would figure the rest out.


	30. Chapter 30

_A/N Trigger warning - brief discussion of past childhood rape and sexual assault (not graphically described) _

_**Chapter 30 **_

Back in the Batcave, Damian and Osito were curled up in Jason's lap on the sparring mats eagerly showing him the photos that Alfred had sent them of various styles of cake decorating.

"So, you see, Baba," Damian said in Arabic to Jason, "frosting and piping work, which I have been learning, is only the start of the journey. Much like good posture is the beginning of swordplay work, but breath technique comes even before that, followed by stretching."

"Because if the sponge is not well flavored and appropriately textured," Damian went on, "it matters little if your cake is beautifully decorated."

"If the blade isn't sharp, your thrusts have no point," Jason said back to him in Arabic and Damian fell over giggling as Jason smiled.

"Fortunately, Osito's blade is always sharp," Damian said with pride.

He glanced across the cave at Tim and Steph, who were still making out and cuddling in front of the Batcomputer, and then surreptitiously lifted Osito's head off to show his spinal shiv to Jason, who raised a very amused eyebrow.

"Did you put that there?" he asked Damian.

"Of course not," Damian scoffed. "Bane did, when he was a child in prison. That's how Osito saved his life once. But I keep it sharp," Damian said. Then he frowned angrily.

"Incompetent Grayson exposed Osito's innards to the whole family when Osito slid down the bannister. He was supposed to catch him." Jason snorted.

"He missed?" he asked with a slightly derisive edge to his voice at the thought of Dick the Dickhead.

Damian made a rude noise.

"No. He caught Osito, but in such a haphazard manner that his head fell off." Jason grunted in a very Bruce-like manner.

Damian craned his head around to look at his older brother-slash-father.

"You do not care for Dick Grayson, do you?" he asked him point blank.

Jason, feeling startled, asked Damian slowly, "Do you care for him?"

"Yes," Damian said. "He is sometimes incompetent, although less often than Drake or Brown, but he is most respectful to me and treats me as his equal."

"Oh," Jason said with surprise. "That's good."

"He is a better detective than me," Damian said honestly. "But he spends time teaching me how to improve. Detection was not part of our training in the League, as you know, Baba, aside from gathering intel on a potential victim."

"Yeah," Jason sighed. "I know. I'm so glad you're here with Pops now, habibi," he said genuinely.

Because even if the kid was with Bruce, who had completely fucked up with Jason, at least Bruce hadn't been the one to shove Damian into violence and a suit. That had been the heartbreakingly brainwashed Talia.

And now the kid was interested in making cakes and opening a bakery one day, and although he still wanted to be Robin, too - and even though he was currently Bat-mite - well, even Jason could admit that was better than being an assassin.

Jason knew firsthand that some scars were too painful to outrun, so better to use them for something good instead of getting depressed trying to avoid thinking about them. That was why he had become Red Hood.

The skill for assassination that Talia had honed to perfection in him, his inner violence stirred to an even more insatiable level by the Lazarus Pit, and Bruce's originally instilled mission of justice - Jason had tried to live a normal life when he first got back to Gotham, but the siren call of those three deeply ingrained disciplines made normality impossible.

Jason was beyond grateful, though, that he'd finally managed to find balance as a result of marrying Harley. She was so happy to have a house-husband, and he was happy to be one, but Harley also had enough amends projects and special operations floating around his periphery that Jason was able to find relief for his irrepressible itch for action by occasionally jumping in and helping her out.

Giving up his full-time commitment as Red Hood had been amazing for his mental health, but only because he had Harley and home-making to focus on in the rest of his life, coupled with the ability to dip his toe in the hero waters every so often.

When Damian had called Jason full of enthusiasm about 'Grandfather's plan for world domination via a Gotham bakery,' Jason had been relieved and pleased to hear that the kid had formed some future plans outside of being Batman.

With luck, having an outside vocation that he was truly passionate about would enable Damian to escape the kind of brutal life that Bruce and Dick led as non-stop vigilantes. A life which the two teens, Steph and Tim, seemed ridiculously eager to pursue; but then again, Harley was also non-stop devoted to her masked work.

Although, Jason knew that in his wife's heart, she wished that she could still be a psychologist. She'd adapted to what life had brought her, however, and since unlike Jason, her violent past was as a criminal rather than as a hero, she was unwilling to walk away from the vigilante game to pursue her own interests when she'd hurt so many others along the way.

God, she was so selfless and Jason was so looking forward to having her back in his arms tonight. But Damian was asking him again about Dick.

"Tell me, Baba, why are you and Dick Grayson at odds with each other?"

Jason sighed long and hard as the knots of past hurts tightened in his stomach. He and Harley had talked about it again this week, after she'd met Dick and Babs at the manor.

Jason had been saddened to hear that Dickhead had apparently moved on after Jason's death to being a dick to Babs. Once upon a time, wayyy back when Jason was first adopted, Dick had clearly adored Barbara too much to ever say a harsh word to her.

Needy for approval and codependent, Harley had diagnosed him, and she'd surmised that after Jason's death, Dick was left with only Babs and Bruce as the two 'safe' people in his life that his pent-up toxicity could overflow on.

Honestly, Jason was surprised that Babs had stayed with him, but she was loyal and she'd really loved Dick back when they were teenagers. Apparently, she still did. Despite his fuckery. Although how she managed to have such a generous heart towards the dickhead, Jason did not know.

He might need to ask her for tips.

Because Jason wanted to do his part and repair the broken ties that everyone in the Batfamily was tripping and cutting themselves on, but fuck, he hated Dick. At least with Bruce, he'd adored him once, before Robin.

But Dick? Yeah, he'd always lived up to his name where Jason had been concerned.

Damian was peering up into his face looking for an answer, though. Jason sighed again.

"The thing is, habibi," he said slowly, "Dick was a real asshole to me when Bruce adopted me. He was jealous, I guess, and him and Bruce were fighting a lot back then, and then Bruce fired him from being Robin, and…" Jason trailed off, realizing that perhaps he shouldn't tell his seven-year-old pseudo son quite everything.

Like the fact that Dick had ragged most of all on Jason for being a whiny, entitled brat with a victim mentality.

The number of times that thirteen year-old Jason had heard the much older teen sneer at him about how _not _rough his life was, because Jason's parents had only died, not been murdered… how Jason hadn't had to give up his future career and his entire extended circus family when Bruce had adopted him…

"What did you lose?" Dick used to hiss at him with a razor tongue whenever he'd catch Jason moping around the manor. "Enrollment at a shitty public school? You still live in the same city, Jason, so what are you crying about?"

"I lost my entire life when my parents got killed," Dick would say viciously.

As if that was Jason's fault. As if what Jason had lost in the thirteen years that he'd lived in Crime Alley with an abusive dad and a drug-addicted mom mattered less than Dick's peachy-keen circus life.

As if Jason hadn't lost other things, more traumatic things, things that he would never dare to speak about to an asshole like Dick.

For the life of him, Jason couldn't make sense at first of how everyone at Dick's school seemed to adore him. Dick's phone was always ringing and vibrating with texts and messages and he always had social plans, and the beautiful and kind Barbara Gordon looked at Dick like he was some kind of angel.

Too bad she'd finally learned which side of heaven Dick was from.

The first weekend that the manor had been filled with Dick's friends, though, Jason had finally understood. Dickie, the circus acrobat, was still living his best life as a circus performer.

The dazzling smiles he'd throw around the room as surely as he must have once thrown himself off of the trapeze, the way his eyes would light up with an inner bounce that radiated out of him like an impossible number of clowns tumbling out of a tiny car, his charismatic energy that could calm the bite out of a tiger…

Yeah, Dick was a showman.

But when the lights went down and the tent was rolled up and the circus moved on? Jason had to live with the asshole who hid under the makeup and pizzazz.

"I will tell Dick that he should apologize to you so you can forgive him," Damian said very seriously. "He apologized to me when he failed Osito. I believe he will do the right thing."

Jason gave Damian a little smile. He didn't want to break the kid's faith in Dick's maturity, but Jason wasn't going to hold his breath that Dick's words would have any meaning behind them, no matter what he might say.

"He and I will talk," is what Jason said to Damian, though. "Hopefully we'll be able to work things out."

"Yes," Damian said gravely. "It was very enjoyable to have him and Barbara over to compete on bannister sliding with us. I would like them to come again when you and Harley are here. Everyone has more fun when Harley is here," Damian observed.

Jason's smile broke out huge all over his face.

"Harley makes everything better," he said wholeheartedly and Damian nodded in agreement.

"So does Bane," he said. "But Bane makes everything more peaceful and Harley makes everything more fun. And I like both," Damian said with a little smile.

"Me, too," said Jason, even though Harley gave him as much inner peace as she gave him reasons to laugh. But she was his girl and he got special treatment.

"Speaking of apologizing," Jason said, remembering something Bane and Harley had both talked to him about. "I need to talk to the Replac- er, um, Tim," he stumbled.

Damn, it was gonna be hard to change what he called the kid, but he felt legitimately bad that he'd lashed out at the new Robin. Especially when Harley had reminded him during their fight about it to think of how bad Dick had always made him feel by being a jerk.

He really hadn't meant to be an actual asshole to the kid; it had just been a stressful night last week: being back at the manor, telling Bruce about how they'd lost Talia, then realizing how badly he'd fucked Damian up by leaving him behind with her, and oh by the way learning that Damian had thought that he, Jason, was his actual father - that was some heavy guilt to get a taste of with Bruce and Al standing right there, who Jason had still been resenting the hell out of. And while the family dinner that night had gone ok, by the end of game night Jason had felt himself hanging on by a thread, his patience ready to snap due to his emotions being on overload all day long.

So when Damian had made the cute crack about being superior to Tim… well, Jason's damn mouth had gotten the better of him. And he'd been an ass. But he didn't want the kid thinking he hated him. Hell, he didn't even really resent him - the crack had been a jab at Bruce in actuality, not even meant for Tim.

Because dammit, Bruce was apparently Jason's safe person to snap at, too. Just like he was for the Dickhead.

It had been an unfortunate slip-up on Jason's part that his bite had gone straight to Tim's face and Bruce had only gotten sprayed with the fallout. He should have snarked at Bruce directly. Or not snarked at all.

But Jason was far from perfect. And now he had an apology to make and some amends to figure out.

He slung a giggling Damian and Osito onto his shoulders as he got up from the mats and walked back over towards the Batcomputer, where Tim and Steph had at least downgraded from sucking face to cutesy lovey-dovey nose boops and flirtation.

"Batgirl, Robin," Jason said dryly as he approached. Tim turned sideways in Steph's lap to glance at him and his look of apprehension sliced Jason's conscience up worse than Osito's sharp shiv would have sliced his jugular.

"Hi," Steph said cautiously. "Welcome back," she offered. "Harley's really missed you."

"Thanks for talking to her the other night, to help calm her down," Jason said appreciatively to Steph, who looked a little surprised at his remark.

Jason hesitated, wondering if it would be best to talk to Tim alone or with Damian and Steph present. Damian saved him from making the decision.

"Rob wishes to apologize to you, Timothy Drake," Bat-mite announced from his shoulder perch. "And then you must forgive him."

"Oh I must, must I?" Tim said with a tease in his voice for Damian, but Jason caught the look of relief on his face at Damian's words as the tension around his eyes relaxed slightly.

"Whether you forgive me or not is up to you, kiddo," Jason said, settling himself down in Bruce's chair with Damian still sitting on his neck like a little king. "But I do want to apologize," he said. "I wasn't really pissed off at you the other night and I didn't mean to snark at you like that about being my Replacement."

"Oh, ok," Tim said slowly. "Thanks."

"It had been a pretty stressful day," Jason said to him. "And I was tired and bitchy."

"Well," Tim said, his lips quirking as Damian impatiently put his little hands on his hips and gave him a look, "I forgive you." Damian nodded sharply in approval.

"Thanks," Jason said with a little laugh, guessing from Tim's face and the movements that he could feel happening over his head what Damian was up to. "I'll try not to be an ass anymore," he said.

Tim and Steph gave him a little smile back.

"So," Jason said, settling back a little bit in Bruce's quite comfortable chair, "you two got together since I've been gone, huh? And Harley told me about the Suicide Squad shooting up your school."

"Yeah, that was pretty fabulous," Steph said with a grin. "It's been a good week. Parts of it," she added with a small frown. Jason glanced at her.

"You and me should talk sometime, Blondie," he said to her.

"About what?" she said suspiciously. Jason met her eyes with empathy.

"About similarly scarred childhoods," he said quietly. Steph's eyes shot wide open and Tim jerked in surprise in her lap.

"You can talk now," Tim said quickly. "If you want. Me and Damian can go spar." He looked at Steph before getting up, though, to see if she wanted him to go. Steph gave him a slight nod and he squeezed her shoulder and kissed her cheek before standing.

Damian imperiously reached his arms out for Tim to pick him up off of Jason's shoulders. Tim laughed but scooped him up anyway.

"You are getting spoiled, D," he said as he set his little brother on the ground. "All these fathers and older siblings around now."

Damian sniffed.

"I work three times as hard as you, Timothy Drake. It is not possible for me to be spoiled unless you yourself are a veritable sloth."

Steph burst out laughing as Tim put his own hands on his hips melodramatically.

"I'll show you how sloth-like I am," he said with a grin. "Race you to the mats," he said and took off running.

"Catch Osito!" Damian yelled, tossing his bear at Jason as he sprinted frantically after Tim. Jason managed to catch Osito without losing the bear's head and he laughed as he set him down on the Batcomputer.

Steph gave him a shy glance before dropping her gaze.

"You don't have to talk about anything you don't want to," Jason said quietly. "Maybe Harley should've asked you first if you wanted to talk to me at all," he frowned. "But she was kind of messed up the other day."

"Yeah," Steph murmured. "We noticed. She told you what I told her?" she asked Jason hesitantly.

"Oh," he said guiltily. "Well, yeah. She told me everything," he said, running his hand through his hair. "She must have been off her game pretty bad if she didn't ask you first if she could tell me," he said. "She normally wouldn't share something like that even with me without somebody's permission."

"It's ok," Steph said softly. "Did you tell Bane? Or Bruce?" she said in a slightly more worried voice.

"No, no," Jason said quickly. "And Harley wouldn't have, either," he said. "That much I know. It's just being married, we don't keep a lot of secrets from each other," he said ruefully. "I know she wouldn't spill your business to anyone else, though. For sure," he said.

"Ok," Steph said. She sighed. "So…" she said slowly. "You, too, huh?"

"Yeah," Jason said. He fiddled with his hands for a minute. "The first time was rape," he said.

"Well," he half laughed but it wasn't a funny sound. "It's always rape with a kid," he muttered. "But my dad, Willis, sometimes he'd leave for weeks at a time, and my mom was a drug addict so we never had money, especially when Willis was gone…"

He looked back up at Steph.

"I learned real fast how to make money so I didn't starve," he said quietly.

"Shit, Jason," Steph said in dismay. He sighed.

"I survived," he said. "It haunts me, though," he muttered.

"Yeah," Steph whispered. "Harley is the first person I ever told about what happened to me. Except my dad, and he didn't believe me. He said. But then I think he killed the guy and I felt so guilty about it. I still do," Steph muttered. "Even though I don't want to."

"Yeah, Harley said you were struggling with that," Jason said sympathetically. "It must have been really rough as a kid to feel like you had life and death power over someone," he said. "And frightening, too, I bet," he said.

"Yes," Steph said, leaning forward a little bit. "I felt like I'd murdered him by speaking up. Even though I knew what he did was wrong. It was still so awful to realize that he'd died because of what I said."

"He didn't, though," Jason said. "He died because of what he did to you and what your dad chose to do back. But your dad wouldn't have done anything at all if that asshole hadn't attacked a defenseless little kid. That was all on the perp, Steph," Jason said.

"I think that's hard to separate out when you're a kid," he said. "I used to feel ashamed of myself for years that I'd turned tricks," he said. "But talking to Harley about it helped me see that it was my kid brain that couldn't distinguish who the shame really belonged to. I had to get my adult brain to put the shame onto where it belonged in the first place."

"What do you mean?" Steph said, frowning.

"Well," Jason said, "it's shameful that a kid had to turn to prostitution to survive. But the shame belongs on my parents, because they should have been taking care of me and weren't. And the people who used me and took advantage of my desperation, that was their shame, too."

"So, for you," Jason said, "yeah, there was guilt tied up in that situation with your dad's friend. But he was the guilty party for attacking you. I guess you could say your dad was guilty, too, of killing him, but I think you know where I stand on killing rapists," Jason grinned at her, and Steph had to smile back.

"I think as kids, we're more perceptive but we're less logical," Jason said, stretching his legs out in front of him. "You realized that somebody in that situation was guilty and you thought because you saw evidence of guilt, that it belonged to you. But it never did," he said.

"Seeing something doesn't make it yours. That's why you gotta teach kids not to steal," Jason grinned. "They don't know any better, that everything they lay their eyes on ain't theirs."

"Oh," Steph said. She chewed on her lip. "That… kind of makes sense," she said slowly.

"Give it time," Jason said gently. "Feelings don't go away overnight. Especially when they've been hounding you for so long."

"I'm really sorry all that happened to you, Jason," Steph said, meeting his eyes with some pain and tears in hers.

"I'm sorry it happened to you too, kiddo," Jason said. "Once it happens, it changes you forever. No matter how far the attack gets or doesn't get. You told the R - Tim?" he caught himself.

"Yeah," Steph smiled. "He was really supportive."

"Good," Jason said with a smile. "He seems like he really likes you."

"Yeah," Steph said, smiling more. "I really like him, too. Plus, he's my Robin," she grinned. "Babs informed me that I'm carrying on the legacy of Batgirls getting with their Robins," she said proudly.

"Guess I missed out on that one," Jason sighed jokingly. "I never had a Batgirl. But I got me a Harley," he smiled. "I got no regrets."

"OHHH!" Steph said excitedly, sitting straight up. "Harley's Batgirl this week! You do have a Batgirl, Jase!"

He raised his eyebrows and rubbed a slow hand over his jaw. His eyes flicked to his memorial case for a second.

"No," Steph said firmly, with undertones of horror. "Fuck, no, Jason. You are not putting that blown up suit back on. That's grisly. And it wouldn't even fit you anymore."

"I don't know," Jason said with a smirk beginning to appear on his face. "I think I might look quite dashing in those green skivvies," he said as he stood up and strolled over to the case. "And it's all spandex. It'll stretch."

Steph gave him a disgusted look of repulsion. He laughed.

"That's good, keep that look on your face, Blondie," he grinned, tweaking her nose. "You have your own Robin. But I think that _my _Batgirl," he said, peering around to try to figure out how to open the case, "my Batgirl will have quite a different look on her face when she sees me in these sexy green underpants," he said.

"Damian!" he yelled across the Batcave.

"Yes, Baba?" Damian yelled back.

"C'mere and help me break into this case. I need to get my old suit out," Jason yelled.

A gaping Tim trotted after the eagerly dashing Damian, who was quick to appear by Jason's side to help him assess the situation.

"Does it lift off, or what?" Jason said, trying to puzzle out how the solid glass box was opened.

"What on earth do you need your old suit for?" Tim said in horror.

"He wants to put it on for Harley," Steph said, rolling her eyes. "Because she's Batgirl tonight."

"Oh!" said Tim, perking up. "That's an excellent idea. She'll like it," he said with a grin.

"Tim!" Steph said in shock. He looked at her as Jason tentatively tried lifting up on the case.

"What?" Tim said to Steph. "It's Harley. She'll think it's hilarious."

"And sexy as fuck, I hope," Jason said with a smirk. "Plus, if you think about it," he mused, "me getting blown to bits in this suit was kind of like our first date. My lady saw me lying there dead on the floor and BAM! Just like that, she killed the Joker," he sighed dreamily.

Steph was staring at him with her jaw open, not sure whether to laugh or gag at the gruesomely romantic nature of Jason's brain.

"Are you going to fuck her in the Batcave?" Tim said eagerly, noticing that Damian had scampered off to look for a glass-cutter.

"Tim!" Steph hissed.

"No, I didn't mean - um," Tim blushed. "It's just that I should create a quick security lockout if you are," he said. "So Bruce and Bane don't come down and interrupt you later. Or Alfred," he added.

"Oh, can you do that, Repla-"

"Just call me Replacement," Tim sighed, rolling his eyes. "I won't take it personally."

"Thanks, kid," Jason grinned as Damian came running back with the glass tool.

"And, yes," Tim said, sitting down at the Batcomputer and starting to type away with relish. "It won't be a problem."

"Tim overrode Bruce's own security lockout, you know," Steph said proudly as Jason began cutting a hole in Bruce's gleamingly polished, smudge-free memorial case.

"I remember," Jason said, chuckling. "Me and Harley heard him screaming at Damian about it the night we had to come save your butts from Bane."

"Yeah, yeah," Steph grumbled. "We didn't get killed. We survived."

"How's that ankle?" Jason said with a catty wink. Steph picked her crutch up and smacked him on the butt with it.

"Hey!" Jason said. "This butt is for one Batgirl only, missy," he said sternly.

"She's wearing my suit," Steph said back. "So I get to smack your ass with my crutch. For being a jerk. Not because I want your ass. Because I have my own Robin's ass."

Damian looked at Steph, then at Tim, whose ears were turning bright red as he resolutely stayed facing the computer.

"Don't speak thusly in front of my child," Jason scolded Steph. "He is young and innocent and I will not permit him to be so corrupted."

"Ok, William Shakespeare," Tim said sarcastically from the computer.

"Don't belittle my William," Jason said as he poked his pane of cut glass through the case, where it fell with a thud to the floor next to his little green booties. "Or I shall have to kick your ass, young Robin."

Tim rolled his eyes without turning around while Jason giggled with glee as he carefully unbuckled his Batbelt from the mannequin and pulled it through the case.

"There's no way that's gonna fit," Steph said critically. "That part's not spandex."

"I can make do with the undies and the shirt," Jason said. "I wish I hadn't outgrown my boots, though," he sighed.

"I bet Harley could fit this, though," he said, looking at the belt more closely. "I'm gonna hang onto it," he said cheerfully, setting it aside.

"Bruce is so going to kill you when he sees what you've done to his display," Tim said in amusement, finally spinning around in his chair to see Jason's progress.

"It's my suit," Jason said peevishly. "And it's not like I'm still dead." Steph giggled harder as he tugged the vest off of the dummy and through the case.

"Shit," Jason said, when he realized that he'd have to take the mannequin's legs off to get the green skivvies off and out. "Habibi, can you fit inside here?" he asked the seven-year old, looking from the case to Damian to the size of the hole he'd cut.

"You may have to cut a bigger hole, Baba," Damian said thoughtfully. "Lift me up and we shall evaluate the situation."

When Harley rode into the Batcave later that night on the Batcycle, she was greeted by one very manly and scantily clad Robin stretched out seductively on the hood of the Batmobile.

As she squealed with joy and jumped off the motorcycle to run over to him, Harley noticed that her husband's ass crack was hanging out of his extremely tight green scaled briefs that conformed quite sexily indeed to his very erect package. He had squeezed his muscular arms into the sleeves of his spandexed Robin shirt, which was looking more like a crop top, especially as Jason had only managed to get exactly one button fastened.

"Hello, Batgirl," Robin said in a sultry voice, sliding a fingertip provocatively into his mouth. "I've been told that there is an established tradition in this Batcave."

"I turned the cameras off, too," Tim said to Steph upstairs as they walked Damian to bed, since Bruce and Bane had yet to emerge from the study.

"Oh, thank God," said Steph with feeling. Tim was sure that Bruce would echo Steph's sentiments twice as forcefully.

Once he finished yelling at Jason tomorrow about his memorial display being ruined, that is.


	31. Chapter 31

_**Chapter 31**_

Bruce came to with a start from the unfamiliar sensation of having dozed off and realized that he had been in the even more unusual situation of being held snugly by a pair of warm arms as he slept.

A pair of arms that were also holding him comfortably in place on a muscular lap. A lap that belonged to his very new, very cuddly boyfriend.

When was the last time that he had ever fallen asleep unintentionally, Bruce wondered to himself with bemusement as he shifted slightly to nuzzle his head a little closer under Bane's jaw as the larger man began to stir.

Not to mention the last time he had cuddled? Brucie Wayne, billionaire who pursued random shallow hook-ups instead of relationships, did not cuddle after sex. Wham, bam, thank you ma'am, and he was out the door. Fewer opportunities for messy emotional entanglements that way, and it wasn't like he ever fucked anybody who expected more than a single night with the billionaire anyway. He did have some decency.

But here in his study, he and Bane hadn't even had sex and Bruce had curled up in his lap like a kitten and drifted off to sleep. And now that he was awake, Bruce felt about as content as he imagined that a cat would be, too. What an odd feeling, he thought to himself. But a good one.

"Good morning," Bane rumbled in his ear with a smile in his voice.

Bruce glanced at the old-fashioned grandfather clock in the room.

"It's about four," he said to Bane, "so I guess 'good morning' works."

Bane chuckled as his sleepy dark eyes met Bruce's mostly alert blue ones.

"It is the only kind of morning that I will ever see now that I am the Batman," Bane said with teasing regret in his voice.

"It is a night job," Bruce said with a grin.

"As you have aptly instructed me," Bane said with a sly look as he traced his fingers along Bruce's arm. "With pillows and cursing, if I recall," he said and Bruce's groan couldn't hold back his laughter as his boyfriend laughed with him.

Their twinkling eyes met and Bane was the one to lean in first, this time, to reach his mouth towards Bruce's for a kiss. And Bruce could not believe the ridiculously gooey way that his insides were melting over how tentatively Bane was kissing him, and how gently he tested out ways to tease his lips apart, and how sweetly he slipped his tongue into Bruce's mouth.

Bruce couldn't help moaning into it as he cupped the back of Bane's neck more tightly, but he let Bane have control of the kiss and explore different ways that their tongues could move together to his heart's content. They both were breathing hard by the time Bane pulled away only to press his forehead to Bruce's.

"Te amo, mi cielo," Bane said to him huskily as he looked into Bruce's eyes.

"I love you, too," Bruce said back, reaching for one of Bane's hands so he could kiss the palm before smiling into it like a dopey lovesick teenager.

"You are most adorable when you smile at me in such a way," Bane said to him with pleasure and Bruce's cheeks actually reddened the slightest bit.

"I'm not in the habit of being described as adorable," he muttered. "I'm Batman."

"No, no, Bruce," Bane said. "I am now the Batman. And you are adorable."

Bruce laughed softly.

"You're in trouble then, Batman," he teased. "Because you're pretty damn adorable, too," he said.

"I am adorable?" Bane asked him in disbelief. Bruce nodded.

"The great and fearsome Bane?" Bane said.

"The great and adorable Bane," Bruce said, reaching up to palm his cheek.

Bane bit his lip in consternation.

"What is it, love?" Bruce asked him.

"You truly think that I am adorable?" he said to Bruce.

"Yes," Bruce said, but with some concern starting to show in his voice. "You don't believe me?"

Bane let out a slow exhale.

"It is just…" he said. "I am more accustomed to insults and disgust where my appearance is concerned," he said.

Bruce frowned hard.

"From who?" he said sharply, the Dark Knight edge slicing through his voice like a knife. Bane's chest puffed up.

"You are angry?" he said to Bruce with pleasure. "On my behalf?"

Bruce raised an eyebrow.

"Obviously," he said. "Who insulted you? I think I can handle putting the suit on one more time."

Bane began to laugh low and long in his belly.

"Bruce, Bruce, Bruce," he said softly. "Mi cielo. You are more than I deserve," he said happily, bending his head to give him a brief kiss.

"It is not important who insulted me in the past," Bane said to him, though.

"I beg to differ," Bruce said flatly, although his hand was soft on Bane's face. "Make me a list," he commanded.

Bane sighed.

"Bruuuuce," he said gently.

"Boyfriend," said Bruce back. "Let me defend you," he said firmly. "You're always standing up for other people. Let me stand up for you this once," he said.

Bane's eyes got a little wet at that.

"I will consider it," he murmured.

"Do that," Bruce said. "And then make me a list," he said very seriously.

Then paused.

"It's not like I'm going to kill them, you know," he said with a twinkle in his eye and Bane laughed. "So there's no harm in giving me a list of names," Bruce said more triumphantly. "The worst they'll get is roughed up and the shit scared out of them. And everything they hold dear threatened," he added under his breath, but Bane heard him.

"Someone is becoming Amanda Waller," he said, squeezing Bruce's hip affectionately and Bruce groaned loud and long.

"Let me take care of you, though," Bruce said again, the tenderness in his eyes mixing with more heat as he spoke.

"You do take care of me," Bane murmured and Bruce's breath caught in his throat.

"I don't," he managed to choke out. "Not like how you help me and make my life better," he said and now it was Bruce's eyes that were becoming misty.

"You do so much for me, love," Bruce said roughly, "and I have so little that I can give you in return."

Bane stared at him in disbelief.

"You think that you give me nothing?" he asked Bruce in wonder. "Mi cielo, you give the world to me," he said.

"How?" Bruce said, his mouth falling open slightly. Because seriously, what the fuck? They both knew that Bruce was the screwed-up one in this relationship. Bruce had honestly been shocked that Bane considered him emotionally healthy enough to pursue a romantic relationship with.

Because if it was Bruce on the outside looking in at himself, considering the person who was Bruce Wayne as a partner? He'd want no part of that clueless mess.

But Bane was reaching a hand up to stroke his face before running his fingers through Bruce's hair.

"You laugh at me," he said. "At my jokes," he clarified at Bruce's look of confusion. "In a good way," he said. "No one laughs at Bane. They are too busy running in the opposite direction."

"Or shitting their pants?" Bruce said, thinking of the liquor store robbers that Bane had surprised on their first day hanging out together, after apprehending King Snake at Gotham Central Station. Bane laughed.

"Exactly, my friend," he said. "No one speaks to Bane long enough to appreciate his sense of humor," Bane sighed.

"Harley does," Bruce pointed out but the side of Bane's mouth curled up into a half-smile.

"Harley loves Bane, yes," he said. "But she speaks to my other part," he said, referring to one of his dissociative identities. "Not this part. This part, Bruce? This part is yours."

Bruce felt his throat beginning to get tight.

"Not only that," Bane went on, "but you bring the light to my darkness."

"I don't understand that," Bruce said, remembering his earlier confusion when Bane had said much the same thing. "I am the epitome of darkness," Bruce said. "Especially when you first came back to Gotham a few weeks ago, after I'd gone through everything with Jason. What about my grumpy snark says light to you?" Bruce said.

Bane smiled at him.

"You have such a sense of humor," he said. "Even when your wit is dry and biting. And you love your children and your father so deeply," he said. "Yes, I know you hurt young Jason," Bane said, raising a hand to cut off Bruce's protests.

"But you loved him and love him still. You take in lost children right and left who are alone and unloved, even when you feel yourself to be incapable of love. You even take in your former adversary who broke your back. Such a big heart, Bruce," Bane murmured. "Even Harley Quinn has become your daughter," he said and Bruce had to smile.

"And despite your affinity for the dark, you became a hero," Bane mused. "The Batman, fighting out of the dark for the light to prevail."

Bruce sighed.

"I think you're giving me too much credit," he said. "You're the light, Bane. Meditating every day. Teaching us to be more spiritual. Bringing a sense of togetherness to our family. I'm nothing like that."

Bane smiled softly.

"You think that I am the light, Bruce? No," he said quietly. "I am filled with more rage than you can possibly imagine," he said. "It is not for no reason that I meditate every day," he said. "It is so that I can face the world with some measure of calm. Without time spent on my pillows, morning and evening, I am little good to anyone."

Bruce frowned.

"I'm still jealous that the pillows work for you," he said and Bane laughed out loud until he was wiping tears from his eyes.

"You see what you do to me and dare to say that you have no light to give me," Bane scolded him. A small smile played around the edge of Bruce's lips.

"Well," he said. "Maybe I have a few sparks once in awhile."

"Mm," said Bane, drawing him closer into his chest. "More than a few, mi cielo," he said as Bruce sighed into him.

* * *

Down in the Batcave, a very sweaty and satisfied Jason and Harley were basking in the afterglow of a steamier than expected reunion, thanks to Jason's inspired roleplay.

"We're gonna take this Robin costume home with us, right?" Harley said to him with a giggle as she sat with her back against Jay's chest while the two of them stretched their bare legs out lengthwise along the leather backseat of the Batmobile. Which they would probably forget to clean before Bruce found it.

"Hell, yeah, we're taking it home," Jay said into her neck as he cuddled his arms around her waist. "I can't believe the old man had it rigged up in a freakin' museum case like that," he shuddered.

"It's a good thing you warned me about that before I came home," he said.

Because Jason had left from Wayne Manor with Bane the week prior without visiting the Batcave first. And his wife had been quite shocked at her discovery when Damian had first taken her down to try on Steph's Batgirl suit for patrols.

"I'm kinda surprised you wanted to put it back on," Harley said to him. "But I got no complaints," she giggled. Jason grunted a little bit.

"I just figured, I didn't want to be scared of it," he said. "It was creeping me out to sit down here looking at it and fuck that," he said roughly. "And fuck the Joker, too," he added. "This suit isn't about him anymore," Jason said. "And it's not about me and Bruce, either."

"It's about you and me, baby," he said, pressing a kiss to Harley's bare neck where it met her shoulder.

"Damn straight," Harley sighed with satisfaction as she snuggled back closer into him. "I love you, Jason Robin Todd," she said, squeezing his hands tight that he had wrapped around her stomach.

"I love you, Harley Batgirl Todd," Jay said back to her as she turned her lips towards him for another kiss.

* * *

"Let's check the Batcave before we go upstairs to make sure the kids have gone to bed," Bruce said to Bane as they slowly pulled themselves off of the couch in his study to go to bed properly.

"The Little Bat has probably gone to bed," Bane said, noticing the time. "He is most disciplined about his sleep habits. But Batboy, I believe he would never sleep at all given the opportunity," Bane said with a chuckle.

"I'd have to agree," Bruce laughed. "Especially since he and Steph got the whole week off from school thanks to Harley's little bullying intervention," he said with amusement.

"Ah, yes," Bane murmured. "That sounded like quite the adventure."

Bruce gripped his arm.

"You heard the whole story?" he said in a low voice of excitement.

"I believe so…?" Bane said, looking at him questioningly.

"They wouldn't tell me everything that happened with the Suicide Squad," Bruce said in a hushed voice. "Harley said it would upset me. But now you can fill me in," he said with quiet glee.

"Ah, Bruce," Bane said hesitantly. "I do not know, then. Perhaps it would be best…"

"But I'm your _boyfriend,_" Bruce Wayne growled with fully seductive billionaire charm, giving Bane sultry bedroom eyes and sliding his hands up Bane's sides in a sexy caress. "We shouldn't have secrets from each other," Bruce practically purred, almost fluttering his eyelashes up at Bane.

"Ay, yi, yi," Bane muttered as the temperature in the room rose by about twenty degrees. "Is this the secret to being the World's Greatest Detective, Bruce?" he said, raising an eyebrow even though he lifted his hands up to cradle Bruce's head as he looked down at the glitteringly determined Bat who was now sliding one hand along Bane's chest while the other continued to stroke his hip.

"Ha!" Bruce barked with a fierce sense of victory. "I _told _Harley that I was the World's Greatest Detective."

"Of course you are," Bane said with a puzzled look. "Everyone knows that."

Bruce snorted, his sexy persona forgotten in light of remembering Harley's grave insult to his well-known capabilities.

"Harley refused to believe that I was a detective," Bruce sulked as he wrapped his arms as far as he could around Bane's massive chest instead, to hug him.

"She said I was an out-of-work haunted house worker."

Bane busted out laughing hard.

"Only our Harley," he said with great amusement.

"You'll tell me though?" Bruce asked him again, his eyes twinkling flirtatiously. "What the Suicide Squad really did?"

"Very well," Bane sighed. "But only because I love you," he smiled.

"I can live with that reason," Bruce smiled back.

His smile turned to a frown, however, when they got to the hidden Batcave elevator which refused to open.

"What the hell?" Bruce muttered, punching in his security override code that should have overridden any form of emergency lockout. Should have. But didn't.

"Bloody hell," Bruce said grimly in a tight voice.

"Why will the elevator not open?" Bane said with some concern.

"I don't know," Bruce said, pinching his eyebrows with his thumb and forefinger, "but Timothy Drake had damn well better be upstairs in bed and not locked downstairs in the cave keeping me out," he said, sliding the moving bookshelf back into place over the elevator door and turning briskly to head to the stairs.

"The last time something happened with the cave locks," Bruce explained as he practically jogged along, "I had tried to lock the kids out and Tim had created a backdoor access."

"He is quite gifted with computers," Bane observed as he easily kept up with Bruce.

"He is," Bruce agreed. "And this has his name written all over it. Why he'd need or want to lock the cave, though, I can't imagine," he said with a morbid sense of foreboding. "Especially without telling me."

"He might have thought that we were otherwise occupied," Bane said with a sly smile and was rewarded with Bruce flashing him a truly devastatingly sexy grin.

"Still," Bruce said as they reached the top of the stairs. "I'm suspecting that I'm not going to like the answer. Whatever it is," he said.

"Why is that?" Bane asked him.

"Call it a father's intuition," Bruce grunted. "You'll develop it soon enough," he said. "As soon as you've lived through the shit hitting the fan once or twice, you'll start to develop a psychic twitch," Bruce said as Bane softly chuckled.

Bruce knocked gently as soon as he got to Tim's door, not wanting to wake up the hopefully sleeping Damian a few doors down but needing to rouse a maybe sleeping Tim. Although, as Bane had predicted, Tim was not, in fact, asleep, as he padded to the door and swung it open within seconds.

"You tried to go downstairs, didn't you," he said to Bruce and Bane without any greeting. Steph waved over at them from his bed, where she and Tim had apparently been curled up watching a movie with the sound turned down low.

"Yes," Bruce said. "Explain," he said tiredly.

"It's not as bad as you think," Steph called out.

"It might be," Tim grinned back at her.

"Tim," Bruce growled impatiently.

"Jason wanted to have sex with Harley in the Batcave," Tim said calmly, flicking his eyes back to Bruce and casually editing out all details about a certain Robin suit and a certain empty display case.

"What?" Bruce said in a voice that couldn't quite decide if it was outraged, amused, or horrified.

Bane softly started to laugh.

"Well, I didn't think you'd want to walk in on them," Tim said helpfully.

"We came upstairs with Damian before Harley got back," Steph added cheerfully. "No one's innocence was destroyed."

"Yeah, Jason already scolded us about that once tonight," Tim snickered. Bruce gave him a look, clearly debated asking, but then wisely thought better of it.

"Will we be able to get back in tomorrow?" Bruce sighed. "After they've hopefully disinfected every damn surface down there?"

"Yeah," Tim said. "The lockout will automatically cancel as soon as they take the elevator back up."

"Good," Bruce grunted. He gave Bane, who was still laughing, a tired look.

"I'm too old for this," Bruce said.

"Nonsense," Bane said. "You have years and years of fatherhood left to look forward to," he said expansively.

"But it's my oldest son presently in the house who's causing me the most grief," Bruce grumbled. "These two know how to behave themselves," he said to Bane, motioning to Steph and Tim, who smiled at him with pride.

"You don't see them having sex in the Batcave," Bruce said grumpily.

"That's just because we're not having sex yet," Steph said cheerfully.

Bruce groaned. Before a thought suddenly hit him. Hard.

He grabbed Tim's shoulder.

"Please tell me you -" "I turned the cameras off," Tim said over him.

"Oh, thank God," Bruce sighed, pulling him into a hug and kissing the top of his head as Steph giggled in the background.

"You are an excellent son," he said to Tim with deep feeling. "You make your father proud. And keep him from needing to bleach his eyeballs."

Tim smiled happily at him and then looked to Bane.

"Welcome home, by the way," he said. "I didn't get a chance to say that earlier."

"Because somebody needed privacy," Steph said teasingly to Bruce, who rolled his eyes at her but walked over to the bed to give her a hug and a kiss good-night as Bane hugged Tim.

"The privacy was appreciated," Bruce said as he ruffled her hair up.

"Yeah, yeah," Steph smiled at him.

"Don't stay up all night," Bruce said to her as Bane came around the bed to hug Steph, too.

"In bed asleep by five," Bane said sternly, looking at the two teens. "Up at one."

"Yes, Batman," Steph giggled. "I guess you're the bad cop now, huh," she said to him and Bruce snorted.

"First time in my life I've ever been called the good cop," he said.

"I'm sure it'll be the last, too," Tim said with a smirk as Bruce raised an eyebrow.

"Wait until you're Batman," he said dryly. "See who's always the bad cop then."

"Damian," Tim and Steph and Bane all said at the same time and Bruce couldn't help it and broke down into a fit of silent laughter, his shoulders shaking as he tried not to wake said bad cop up and earn them all a noise violation that Damian's subsequent moodiness would punish them for into the next week.

"Good night, good cops," Bruce said to the two teens with a little grin, who wished him and Bane a good night back as the adults left their room, shutting the door behind them.

"Well," Bane said hesitantly as they walked back down the hall towards his room.

"Do you want to sleep in my room?" Bruce asked him. "Just to sleep," he clarified, since they still needed to have a conversation around Bane's past childhood abuse before having sex, to make sure that they were both on the same page about comfort levels and safety and anything that might be off-limits.

"If you want to," Bruce added quickly. "You don't have to."

"I would love to," Bane said with the warmest of smiles.

As Bruce drifted off to sleep that night tucked securely into Bane's arms, both of them curled under the covers in his luxurious antique bed, Bruce decided that he might not like accusations of being the good cop, but he definitely enjoyed being the little spoon. One change in roles that he had no complaints about, he thought contentedly. None at all.


	32. Chapter 32

_A/N Lemons ahead! Read at your own risk. _

* * *

_**Chapter 32 **_

It was getting close to dawn when Harley and Jason finally made their way upstairs to their bedroom from the Batcave to get some actual sleep after their welcome-home roleplaying.

Jason was carrying his Robin suit folded in his arms, having thoughtfully put his normal clothes back on just in case they bumped into Alfred or Bruce wandering around the manor for a midnight snack or an emergency silver polishing.

Better that he save all his sexy for his girl, Jason thought to himself virtuously, fingering his scaly green briefs that Harley had indeed found quite appealing with his manly sized cock stuffed inside of them.

Even if his manly sized ass had barely fit. Not that Harley had minded that, either, Jason thought with a smile.

"I love you, baby," he said to her when they had entered their room and shut the door behind them and his suit was carefully stashed in their dresser.

"I love you, too, Jay," Harley said to him, wrapping her arms around his chest and leaning into him for comfort, inhaling his ever-present scent of leather and motorcycle grease and thinking how glad she was that he was home.

The last week without Jay at her side had gone much better than Harley had expected, though. Living at the manor with Bruce had helped her get to know the man behind the mask and behind the errantly abusive father who Jay remembered as the one who put an unwilling Robin out onto the streets in harm's way.

But Harley saw that Bruce was trying; he had been willful and arrogant with how he had parented both Jason and Dick, that was true, but even then he wasn't malicious. He loved his kids, even when he was clueless as to how to express it properly or raise them safely.

He loved the new ones, too; Tim and Steph and feisty little Damian, and was more receptive to parenting advice since Jason's accusations had plunged him into a guilt-stricken breakdown.

And odd as it sounded, it appeared that Bruce was even starting to love her, Harley formerly Quinn.

But still, Harley was glad that Jason was home and she was looking forward to going back to their apartment soon, even if her temporary stay at Wayne Manor had been surprisingly pleasant.

"I missed you so much," she said to Jason, sighing happily as he wrapped his arms tightly around her and kissed the top of her head.

"I'm not used to sleeping alone anymore," Harley said, looking up at him with a little smile that wasn't even flirtatious. She simply slept better with Jay at her side.

"Good," Jason growled possessively, bending to give her a quick kiss before stroking his thumb over her cheek.

"I'm glad I'm back to sleep next to you, too," he said more tenderly, using the arm that he had slung around her waist to pull her in even closer.

"And it's not only because I've been spending the last week sleeping in a cargo van on shifts with Bane," he chuckled as Harley giggled into his neck.

Jason kissed her nose before they began shedding their clothes on their way to bed so they could curl into each other skin to skin as they slept.

"I apologized to the Replacement tonight," Jason said to her as he got under the covers next to Harley.

"Oh, good, Jay. I'm proud of you," Harley said warmly as she scooted over on the mattress to lay under his arm before he pulled the blankets up over them.

"Yeah," Jason sighed. "I felt really bad when I saw how he looked at me," he said. "Made me feel like the Dickhead," he said guiltily.

"Well, you only slipped up once with Tim," Harley pointed out. "And now you've apologized. That's a way better track record than Dick," she said grimly.

Because Dick had up until last week been holding onto a grudge against Jason. And while he had appeared willing to work things out with his younger brother when Harley had chastised him during the Great Wayne Manor Bannister Balancing Tournament, both Harley and Jason still felt apprehensive about what Dick's true feelings might be underneath the surface of that night's awkward demonstration of guilt.

"I'm nervous about talking to him," Jason admitted to her quietly. "He's such a good liar, Harls, and so good at showing people what they want to see. I don't know how I can believe anything that comes out of his mouth."

Harley sighed as she ran her fingers up and down her husband's pecs and abs.

"Well, sad to say, it doesn't sound like he's ever really held back his truth from you," Harley said. "Although, now that he's an adult, he might choose to hide it for the sake of family peace."

"But," she continued, "I know him and Bruce actually seemed to work some of their issues out," she said. "And Babs seemed relieved, like maybe things were finally going to get better between her and Dick in their relationship. So, he's at least taken some steps towards honesty and resolution this week with the people he's hurt the most."

Jason grunted in a very Batman-like manner.

"It's about time," he said sincerely. "Babs was a good egg back when we were kids. She didn't deserve Dick turning his shit on her like you told me he had."

"Yeah," Harley said softly. "I liked her. And she loves the kids, too. I could tell they all have a solid relationship with her."

"I'm glad," Jason said. "Those kids need one normal, well-adjusted adult in their lives," he chuckled dryly.

"Right?" said Harley, giggling. "I can't believe she's the only person in this family with a real job and no masked side gig."

Jason grinned.

"She did good getting out of the vigilante game and becoming a regular old cop," he said with admiration.

"Not letting Bruce's brainwashing stick. And then becoming the commissioner after her dad died…" his voice trailed off and he swallowed as he thought of former Police Commissioner Jim Gordon, lost too soon to prostate cancer.

"You must've known the Commish pretty well, huh?" Harley asked him gently.

"Yeah," Jason said thickly, pausing to clear his throat and wipe the tears from his eyes. "He was Bruce's only true friend, honestly. And he was always good to me," Jason said in a choked up voice.

"I wish he hadn't died before I got back to Gotham," he muttered. "That really sucked to come home and find out he was gone," he said.

"I bet," Harley said sympathetically. "Especially since you'd lost Talia for all intents and purposes and you were rightfully angry at Bruce and Alfred. The Commish was the one safe adult left in your life," she said.

"Yeah," Jason sighed. "Even though I don't know how I could have talked to him if he'd still been around, given that he didn't know I was Robin and considering that I wanted nothing to do with Bruce. But… just to have been able to look in on him from time to time from a rooftop? To see a friendly face from a distance? It would have meant a lot," he said regretfully.

Harley hummed sympathetically as she squeezed him a little tighter. The pair fell quiet for a few minutes, Jason lost in thought as his hand idly stroked up and down Harley's back.

"Babs did good winning the election to succeed her dad as commissioner, though," Jason said a little while later. "She was young to get that post," he said admiringly.

"Uh huh," Harley said quickly in far too innocent a voice, suddenly looking down at her husband's chest instead of up into his eyes.

"She did real good," Harley said. "Yep. Girl power."

"Harley…" Jason said suspiciously, amusement creeping into his voice.

"Hm?" she said, fluttering her eyelashes as she looked back up at him.

"Did my lady have something to do with my sister-in-law becoming police commissioner?" Jason asked her slowly, a grin spreading across his face.

Harley huffed out a breath and laughed.

"Ok, yes. But you cannot ever tell her that," she said adamantly. "She was not my family member when I did that and she is so proud that she won, and Dick and Bruce are proud of her, too, and Alfred, and… keep my secret?" she asked Jay pleadingly.

"Baby, I keep all your secrets," Jason said warmly, pulling Harley into a tighter hug. "You never have to worry with me."

"Thank you, Jay," she said with relief. "I feel so bad about it, now," she said guiltily.

"Well, not bad that I did it," Harley frowned, feeling compelled to explain, "because Babs was the way better candidate and who Gotham needed. But I feel bad now that I know her because I see that she'd feel horrible over winning a rigged election and she'd probably resign if she ever found out the truth," Harley said with some frustration.

"Does that mean you won't be interfering when she's up for re-election?" Jason teased her, already knowing the answer. Because he knew his Harley.

She giggled and scoffed.

"I mean, come on, baby, I'm the Queen of Gotham," Harley said with pride. "I can't leave a big deal like who the police commissioner is up to chance," she laughed up at him, her eyes twinkling.

"But we will never tell Babs," she said, suddenly becoming solemn and holding up her pinky, which Jay just as solemnly took in the crook of his and shook in a swear.

"Or anyone else in the family," Jason said. "Because they'd rat us out."

"Agreed," said Harley, nodding firmly.

A little bit later, Jason shifted Harley around in his arms, feeling too happy to be back with his wife to fall asleep right away.

"You know what Dami told me tonight?" he asked her.

Harley shook her head, still wide awake, too, being equally reluctant to close her eyes on her husband, happy to lay in his arms and look at him in the shadows of their darkened room with slivers of moonlight peeping through the mostly closed antique red tapestried curtains.

"Damian said that he likes Dick," Jason said, sounding puzzled. "Said Dick respects him and is kind to him."

"I could see that," Harley said thoughtfully. "Dick apologized to him really nicely when he dropped Osito during the bannister battle. He seemed like he treats Tim and Steph pretty well, too."

"Why would he be like that with them?" Jason asked her. "I mean, I'm glad he's not fucking with the new kids. But why would he be so hard on me and not on them?"

He sounded not only confused but forlorn, too, which wrenched Harley's heart out of her chest.

"Well," Harley said gently, "they're not a threat to his status, really. He's an adult now and he was still a teenager living here at the manor when Bruce adopted you."

"And honestly, Jay," Harley said, chewing her lip a little bit, "Dick's issues with you were coming out of his trauma," she said a little reluctantly.

"I got a bigger picture of what's been going on with him from talking to Babs, when I heard how he's been treating her," Harley said. "Not to be psycho-analyzing family members," she groaned.

"But to psycho-analyze them," Jason laughed. "Go ahead, baby. I won't tell the ethics committee," he said in a conspiratorial whisper.

Harley giggled and decided to push away her ethical qualms about sharing her professional analysis of Dick with Jason for the sake of helping her husband, because she truly couldn't stand to hear Jay sounding so sad and troubled.

"The thing is," Harley said, "Dick didn't get therapy or grief counseling when his parents got killed, right? So when you came along, he went into emotional flashback and started reliving his own trauma," she said.

"He saw Bruce adopt another vulnerable, traumatized orphan, and for the first time in his life, Dick got to observe as an outsider what he had gone through in losing his parents."

"So all of your grief?" Harley said. "He perceived it as weakness. As his weakness. Because he wasn't seeing you, Jay, when he looked at you. He was seeing himself in your place, as a grieving, abandoned kid. And he got scared and wanted to protect that little lost kid that he used to be."

"By making my life a living hell?" Jason asked her. "Saying all that shit about how my life wasn't that bad, and what was I crying for, and shit like that?"

"Unfortunately, yeah," Harley said heavily. "Dick wanted to erase your trauma from existence by saying all that because he thought subconsciously that forcing you to admit that you had no trauma would erase all the flashbacks and old fears he was feeling. Your presence was threatening his emotional security. So he had to tell you to grow up, to stop crying, because that's what he wanted to tell himself."

"But," Harley said, "he was also yearning for validation at the same time. So he got hyper-focused on how much worse he thought his own situation was compared to yours. I'm sorry, sweetie," Harley said sincerely.

"It was a rotten thing for him to do, traumatized or not. Having gone through shit doesn't erase a person's conscience," Harley said. "And he was plenty old enough to know what a colossal dick he was being and to have enough self-control to reign it in."

Jason snickered.

"You're really part of the Batfamily, now," he said. "Dick puns were the final initiation."

Harley laughed.

"Well, he deserves them all," she said a little bitterly. "And then some. I don't know if he really gets what he did to you or not, Jay," Harley said. "But I guess it's a good sign that he at least wants to try to work things out."

"We'll see what happens," Jason said guardedly. "But I'm not getting my hopes up."

"Yeah," Harley agreed. "Better to wait and see where he's at. It might take some time with Dick, to heal all of that," Harley said. "If all of it even can be healed," she added.

"Well, I'll never say never after me and Bruce have started working things out," Jason smiled into her hair as he trailed his fingers down her bare back.

"I will say this for Dickiebird," Jason said. "Seeing what I did to Damian? When I left him with Talia? That made me feel like I was as shitty as Bruce. So maybe I feel a little more empathetic to where Dickhead was coming from with me," Jason said. "I get he was fucked up, too."

"I think you're a better person than he is, though," Harley said honestly. "When you saw Bruce in yourself, you were immediately horrified," Harley said. "And you reached out to both Damian and Bruce because of it to try to make amends. We'll see what the Dickwad does," she said dryly as Jason giggled at her nickname.

"Oh, babe, you didn't ask Steph if you could tell me about her sexual abuse," Jason said suddenly, remembering what he and the current Batgirl had discussed earlier that night before Harley had gotten back from patrol.

"She was a little upset, I think, that I knew."

"Oh, _shit!_" Harley said in a panic, growling loudly at herself in frustrated regret.

"Shit, shit, shit!" she said, kicking her foot against the mattress in frustration.

"Godammit," she groaned. "I am such an idiot. I bet she feels betrayed."

"I tried to explain to her that you were messed up pretty bad that night," Jason said. "And that you would only have told me 'cause we're married, not anybody else."

"Thanks, Jay," Harley murmured.

"Fuck it," she cried, though, a second later. "I can't believe I did that. Worst goddamn therapist ever."

Harley's hands had started tugging at her hair almost unconsciously as she internally eviscerated herself for her oversight in dealing with such a vulnerable piece of history that Steph had entrusted to her.

"You were having a rough day, baby," Jason said compassionately, gently taking her hands in his.

"I think she'll forgive you," he said, kissing Harley's palms and fingers, which she was still knotting and twisting in anxiety.

"And me and Steph had a good talk," Jason said reassuringly, trying to help his wife focus on the positive.

"That's good," Harley sighed, but she was still growling under her breath and grinding her teeth.

"Babe, you are an amazing woman and the undeniable Queen of Gotham," Jason said to her sweetly, "but you're never gonna be perfect. And you don't have to be," he said, giving her little kisses against her forehead until he felt her start to relax against him.

"It's ok," he told her. "Really," he promised her. "You'll talk to Steph this afternoon and work it out."

"Ok," Harley grumbled against him. "But I feel really bad," she muttered despondently.

"I know," Jason said soothingly, stroking her hair back from her head. "And Steph will know, too, how bad you feel when you talk to her. It'll be ok," Jason said again, starting to rub circles on Harley's back.

"We all make mistakes," he said gently. "Isn't that what you tell me?" he asked her, smiling against her forehead.

"Yeah, yeah," Harley said, beginning to smile a little bit at Jay's comforting encouragement against her will.

"I may suck a little bit at taking my own advice," Harley sighed into his neck.

"It's ok," Jay repeated, still smoothing her hair with one hand. "I love you, anyway."

"I love you, too," Harley said softly.

Their eyes locked in the moonlight floating through the room and Jason caught Harley's lips in a soft kiss that she sighed into, relaxing into his touch.

His hand was gentle as he skimmed it down her side, lightly gliding over her curves in a caress meant to relax and comfort her and Harley let out a breathy moan, encouraging him to continue as one of her hands found its way to hang onto the back of his neck while he continued to slowly kiss her.

Harley whimpered into his mouth as his hand slid over her breasts and gently traced her stomach before dipping down to her core, where he only teased her slit open for the barest moment before continuing to let his hand travel lightly over the rest of her body.

Harley tugged on Jason's neck, pulling him over with her as she rolled onto her side, still kissing him with needy moans and sighs as his hand cupped her breast and began to gently massage it, the calluses on his palm only adding to her arousal.

Jason bent his head to replace his hand with his mouth and began to suck and tease at her nipple as his hand massaged her stomach, rubbing slow circles that Harley began to urgently wish would travel a little lower to where she was starting to drip with desire.

When she couldn't take it anymore, Harley whined impatiently and grabbed Jay's hand in hers, moving it to her slit where she wanted it. She kept her hand resting on top of her husband's, their fingers interlaced, as he stroked into her wet folds and up to her clit in a tantalizingly deliberate rhythm.

Her other hand was tangled in Jason's hair, tugging and pulling on it in time with his sucking and stroking, but when Jason's fingers pushed their way inside of her, Harley moaned and gave up her hold on his hair in order to dig her fingernails into his muscular back as she arched her pelvis and tried to squeeze him in deeper.

"Just relax, baby," Jason breathed, letting her breast go with a final swirling lick to her nipple. "I'm gonna take good care of you," he murmured against Harley's neck, beginning to kiss his way to her jugular, adding some extra tongue when he plunged his fingers further in before beginning to pump them in and out of her wet channel.

Harley wrapped both arms around Jason's neck and clung to him as he ground into her pussy, pushing deeper and twisting until he found the spot that made her moan.

"Jay," Harley cried against his forehead as he began to punish her g-spot even harder.

She sniffed and felt some tears leak out of her eyes as she held onto Jason desperately, feeling too weak and helpless to do anything but hang on and ride the waves of increasing need that Jason was stirring up with his grinding assault.

"Fall apart," Jason murmured in her ear. "I've got you."

Harley's tears began to fall harder as Jason increased the intensity of his fingers' pulsing rhythm until Harley gave a muffled shriek into his shoulder and gasped around him, her pussy clamping down hard on his still-pumping fingers as her orgasm hit her.

Jason drew it out as she moaned and quietly sobbed against him until she fell back against the pillows, exhausted. Jason crawled on top of her, sliding his hard cock into her still quivering warmth, and Harley clasped her arms around his neck gratefully as he bent down to give her deep, wet kisses while he began to fuck her.

She whimpered against him, her body boneless and completely relaxed, her hips easily following Jason's lead as he took control and fucked her hard, knowing that she needed that release from her built-up guilt and tension over screwing up with Steph.

"Let go, baby," Jason whispered against her lips. "I'm gonna fuck you until you see stars," he said.

Harley arched and moaned against him. Jason chuckled huskily while he continued his sharp thrusts, loving how Harley's eyes started to roll back when she began to bliss out in his arms.

She was a weepy, incoherent mess by the time Jason hit the spot that sent her into another orgasm, and as Harley came hard, Jason exploded into her, too, feeling so unbelievably grateful that he was the man who not only got to fuck his Harley but pick up her pieces when she broke down.

Just like she picked up his.


	33. Chapter 33

_A/N I revised the previous chapter (Ch. 32) on 5/7, adding in a few more details from Harley and Jason's POV and polishing it a little bit. It's not necessary to go back and read the revision before going on, but if you want to, now you know it's there. _

_Lemons ahead. Read at your own risk! _

* * *

_**Chapter 33**_

Bruce awoke the next morning feeling oddly, incredibly rested. As his eyes slowly opened, he realized that not only had he slept much more soundly than normal, but he was waking up to a feeling of cozy safety and protection instead of his normal state of anxious paranoia and hypervigilance.

A feeling that had very much to do with his entire six foot frame being engulfed by Bane's warm, slumbering mass. The larger man had his thick arm wrapped snugly around Bruce's waist and had tucked Bruce's hips firmly into his crotch the night before and Bruce had remained there all night, now pressed up hard against Bane's morning wood.

As Bane awoke, his hand slipped under Bruce's t-shirt and gently rubbed his abs. Bruce let out a soft sigh and slid his hand on top of Bane's, squeezing his friend's fingers in his.

"I love you," Bruce said quietly into the darkness, his heavy black-out curtains refusing to let even a glimmer of sunshine into the Bat's inky, vampiric sleeping quarters.

He felt Bane smile against the back of his head.

"And I love you, Bruce," his boyfriend murmured against his hair before pressing a gentle kiss onto Bruce's neck, just behind his ear.

Bruce couldn't help sighing again. When was the last time he had felt so relaxed, he thought to himself. Or content? He snuggled backwards into Bane and turned his head sideways, seeking the other man's lips for a kiss, which Bane willingly returned.

"I am not accustomed to being the little spoon," Bruce said in his gravelly morning voice filled with the remnants of sleep as he rolled over into Bane's chest, "but I must confess," he said as he wrapped a hand behind Bane's neck, "it's absolutely delicious."

Bane chuckled, the vibrations reverberating against Bruce's belly, and he bent his head to kiss Bruce more, soft and sweet, their tongues tangling together languidly even though their mutually hard cocks were brushing against each other in the beginnings of a dance.

"And I must admit," Bane growled a few minutes later, "that for me, being the larger spoon is most pleasurable," he said. "I am finding that I feel quite protective of you, Bruce," he mused, sliding both hands down to rest in the dip of Bruce's low back.

Bruce hummed happily against Bane's throat as he settled himself a little more securely into him.

"I am realizing," Bruce said to Bane as he curled into him, "that I am too tired and broken to mind."

Bane tried to protest Bruce's self-deprecation, but Bruce just chuckled.

"You met me at the right time in my life, Bane," he said lazily, reaching his arms up and stretching out like a cat against the solid wall of Bane's muscle.

"Six months ago I would have shoved off any and all attempts at caring for me," Bruce said, "let alone protecting me. I did the protecting," he said heavily. "I was Batman."

"Yes," Bane said with a tease in his voice. "And now I am Batman and you are mine to protect."

And damn it if that didn't make Bruce feel all warm and fuzzy inside, even though when it came down to it, he wanted to take care of Bane, too - and his kids, and Alfred, and even himself.

But still. Not having to rely only on himself anymore? Or on Alfred, who had turned out to be a shaky foundation? It was a good feeling. Odd. But good.

And made even stranger by the fact that this week had taught Bruce that Bane wasn't the only one he could count on to back him up. Harley, of all people, had been there all week to catch him - with parenting the kids, with covering patrol, with taking down Amanda Waller.

Maybe… maybe the Bat didn't need to go it quite as alone as Bruce had been accustomed to doing. Maybe Bruce didn't need to go it quite so alone, either.

Bruce shifted his hips and groaned a little bit as his cock ground a little more firmly against Bane's.

"Are we going to do anything about this now?" Bruce asked Bane a little playfully, turning his face to press a kiss to the corner of Bane's mouth as his morning stubble brushed rough against his face.

"Because we really need to talk about a few things first," Bruce said. "Even if we talk about more later."

Bane was quiet for a minute, but Bruce could tell he was thinking.

"Just… perhaps… let us avoid oral sex for the moment," Bane said finally, with the slightest whisper of pained memories in his voice.

Bruce hugged him more tightly.

"Anything you want, love," he said, kissing Bane's cheek now. "Or don't want," he added, raising himself up slightly on his elbows so he could kiss the tip of Bane's nose.

"And if you want to stop at any time, promise me you'll say so," Bruce said with more of the Bat's commanding growl sneaking into his tone.

"I will," Bane mumbled quietly.

"You promise?" Bruce checked again. "I mean it, Bane. No matter how far along we are or what we're doing. All you have to do is say the word and we'll stop or take a break, whatever you need."

"I promise," Bane said with a little more strength, but it was mixed with wonder and love. "The way you care for me, Bruce," he sighed with contentment.

"Is only the way you should always have been cared for," Bruce said firmly.

"Mi cielo," Bane said happily, reaching up to catch Bruce's left wrist in his hand. "I saw you are wearing my bracelet," he said, referencing the "New Friends Hopefully Forever" bracelet he had made and left behind for Bruce before leaving on his trip.

Bane pressed a kiss over the silver charm.

"You're wearing yours, too," Bruce smiled, sliding his own fingers down to find the leather strings and silver charm wrapped around Bane's wrist so he could fondle it.

"Every day, I looked at this while driving," Bane said quietly to Bruce. "And I dared to hope. Foolishly, I thought. But, nevertheless. I dreamt of what we might become."

"I dreamed of you, too," Bruce said huskily. "And I only took my bracelet off after we fought. When I was so horrible to you," he said guiltily.

Bane made soothing sounds in his throat so Bruce ran his fingers along Bane's bald head and kissed him sweetly.

"I knew when I missed having it on that I was in trouble," Bruce chuckled against his lips. "I couldn't stand fighting with you," he said, sliding his fingers up and down the ridges of Bane's head in a slow caress.

"I am glad for that," Bane murmured back to him. "Young Jason tried to assure me that I had not destroyed all possibilities of a future with you, but… that was a dark day for me, Bruce," Bane said regretfully.

"I should not have lied to you," he added.

"No," Bruce said gently, "but I shouldn't have been an ass, either."

Bane smiled and rolled onto his back as Bruce straddled him, holding his face with both hands as he slowly began to grind their cocks together, still sheathed in silk boxers in Bane's case, and flannel pajama pants in Bruce's.

Bane hissed in pleasure as Bruce let out a low moan.

"You like?" Bane asked him roguishly as Bruce stroked his length along Bane's.

"Mm," Bruce growled deep in his throat. "It's different," he chuckled. "But amazing."

"Good," Bane breathed over his lips, reaching up to pull Bruce into a sensual kiss.

Bruce's hand found its way down Bane's chest and under the waistband of his shorts, sliding down to grip his thick cock and feel his way along his length, gently thumbing the opening before tracing his fingers up and underneath to cup Bane's balls.

Bane let out a deep sigh as Bruce began to gently massage them in the palm of his hand, feeling their weight and enjoying the grunts and moans that Bane was letting out. After a minute, Bruce slowly crawled down Bane's legs, peeling his boxers off as he went before stripping off his own shirt and pajama pants.

"I have some lube," Bruce said, crawling to the edge of the bed to reach into his nightstand drawer. "Do you want the lights on?" he asked Bane, pausing as he knelt in the dark.

"Perhaps… not this first time," Bane said hesitantly.

"Whatever you want, baby," Bruce said gently, groping in the dark to find Bane's hand and lifting it up to kiss the palm when he did.

Bruce turned his cheek to nuzzle it into Bane's hand afterwards, and Bane gave a slightly embarrassed sigh as he stroked his thumb over Bruce's face.

"We can slow down if you want," Bruce murmured to his boyfriend, but he heard the humor in Bane's voice when he replied, "No."

"I want to be with you, Bruce," Bane said, sounding happy and wistful at the same time. "I am just… unaccustomed to showing emotion during sex," he said. "Or being sober while having it," he said a little more wryly. "It may take me some time to feel comfortable with myself."

"It's ok," Bruce said reassuringly. "I'm fine with the lights off indefinitely," he said. "And I love you," he added. "You're safe here."

Bane made a sound resembling a purr and Bruce smiled and set the lube down so he could help Bane peel his shirt off in the dark before picking the lube up again to pour a little in his hand. Finding Bane's cock, Bruce began to stroke it confidently up and down, twisting his hand over the tip the way he liked to jack himself off.

Bane's purrs turned into happy groans and he reached out and squeezed Bruce's thigh.

"Give me some of that lube," he ordered.

Bruce chuckled and complied, starting to moan himself as Bane started to pump his shaft as Bruce's hand resumed its movements on Bane's cock.

"God, that feels good," Bruce muttered and Bane grunted his assent.

"It's so weird to be fisting a cock that isn't mine," Bruce laughed softly, "while getting mine jacked off by a different hand."

"Weird, good?" Bane teased him, already knowing the answer.

"So good," Bruce groaned, enjoying how Bane was starting to twitch and shake in his palm as he sped up his movements and added some pressure.

"You wish to come like this?" Bane asked him.

"Yeah," Bruce muttered. "I'll fuck you properly tonight," he promised breathily. "When I can take my time."

Bane grunted in satisfaction, pleased with Bruce's answer, and increased his pace on Bruce's cock.

"Fuck," Bruce mumbled.

Bane added some whimpered curses in Spanish and before long, his hips were thrusting frantically off of the bed into Bruce's tight hand.

"That's it, baby," Bruce murmured. "You come first."

Bruce met Bane's cock with a few more quick hand strokes and then Bane gave a low moan and shuddered and gasped through his climax, his cum spurting out of him in a hot stream.

Bruce found himself trying to memorize every whimper and groan that his boyfriend made so he could have the satisfaction of reliving their first time together because he felt so damn emotional and happy and, well, Bane wasn't the only one who had a lot of emotionless sex in his past.

It had been so long since Bruce had loved somebody he fucked.

That hollow realization didn't have time to overtake Bruce's psyche, though, because Bane was pumping Bruce's cock with a reinvigorated enthusiasm before pausing for only a moment to rise to his knees and push Bruce backwards onto the bed so he could lay over him and give him sloppy kisses as he fisted him towards completion.

"Te amo," Bane whispered into his mouth as his free hand brushed Bruce's hair back from his face.

"Te amo, mi cielo. Come for me, Bruce," he murmured and Bruce jerked and dug his fingers into Bane's brawny shoulders as he came hard, finding himself shaking with emotion as Bane gently stroked his head and pressed warm kisses into his lips.

Bruce's arms slipped around Bane's neck as Bane gently lay over him, only needing to hold a little of his weight up off of the strong Dark Knight's muscular physique.

"I love you so much," Bruce sniffed into the side of Bane's face, surprised to find himself a little teary-eyed.

He laughed at himself in disbelief.

"I don't think I deserve to be this happy," he said honestly.

"Hush," Bane gently scolded him. "You have suffered enough for many men," he said. "You deserve all the happiness you can find in this life."

"So do you," Bruce mumbled against his shoulder.

"Of that, I am well aware," Bane said with a self-satisfied smirk. "My pillows have long since convinced me of this truth," he said.

"We need to trade pillows," Bruce said and Bane laughed.

"You are sharing your pillows with Bane, now," he said. "They will speak to me and I will speak to you," he said to Bruce, and his words came out as more of a caress than a joke.

"I can live with that arrangement," Bruce said with a smile.

"Not that you can skip evening meditation practice," Bane warned him mischievously.

Bruce sighed.

"Only for you, love," he said. "I will sit on my damn pillows every night. For you. Whether they speak to me or whether you speak for them."

"You will not regret it," Bane promised him.

Bruce got a wicked smile on his face which Bane could feel in the dark.

"And you," Bruce said more roughly, "will not regret it when I fuck you into the pillows afterwards."

"As long as we use a different set of pillows for that particular exercise," Bane said with a smile.

And as Bruce hugged his man and shook with laughter, he thought that he could never get enough of Bane, even if he'd already had more than enough of sitting on his damn pillows.


	34. Chapter 34

_**Chapter 34**_

Steph wasn't surprised the next morning to hear a knock on her door at 12:30 p.m. Figuring it was Tim coming over to hang out a little bit before breakfast, she yelled "Come in!" so she wouldn't have to bother swinging around on her crutches and fumbling with the door.

Instead, the door opened to reveal Harley, nervously twisting her hands as she hesitated just outside the threshold to Steph's bedroom.

"Hi, Steph," Harley said. "Could I talk to you for a minute?" she asked anxiously.

"Sure, Harley," Steph said, raising her eyebrows a little bit.

"Come on in," she said, so Harley forced herself to walk the rest of the way into Steph's very purple bedroom, pushing the door shut behind her.

"You got a favorite color, huh?" Harley said with a little grin, taking in Steph's purple polka dotted bedspread, purple plaid curtains, and the plush purple area rug shaped like a heart.

"Yep," Steph said with a little grin. "Bruce and Alfred let me redecorate the whole room when I moved in," she said. "It used to be all this old antique stuff. Made me feel like I was living in a funeral parlor."

Harley giggled as she came over and sat in the very modern but still velvet overstuffed lavender armchair by Steph's bed.

"I'm partial to sky blue, myself," Harley said, curling her legs up under her. "Jay was kind of surprised when he saw my bedroom for the first time."

"Oh," Steph said, wrinkling her brow. "I would have been, too. Based on your costume."

"Well," Harley said softly, picking at her shoelace, "those colors didn't really have anything to do with me, ya know? They were for _him_."

She sighed morosely before perking up slightly.

"At least the red still works, though, right? Now that I'm with Red Hood."

"Yeah, totally," Steph reassured her. "So what's up, Harley? What did you want to talk about?"

Harley's cheeks began to turn as red as her harlequin costume as she fumbled around for the words.

"I, um, I just - I'm really sorry I told Jay all your business," she said regretfully, pulling her eyes up from the floor to meet Steph's. "Normally I woulda never - but - I dunno what was wrong with me that day," she said with embarrassment.

"I didn't even think about asking you if it was ok to tell him and then I was blabbin' away to him on the phone afterwards and I didn't even realize what I'd done until he told me last night, after he'd talked to you."

"It's ok," Steph said gently.

Harley shook her head miserably.

"It really ain't, though," she said. "'Cause then you had to get hit out of the blue with Jay tryin' to talk to you about it and feelin' all embarrassed and ashamed and shocked your business was all out there in the open, and… I'm so, so sorry I did that to ya," Harley said, her eyes filling with tears.

"You don't gotta pretend like it's ok," Harley added, wiping her eyes on her sleeve. "You can be honest with me about how it made you feel."

Steph's cheeks pinkened a little bit now.

"Well," she said softly, "yeah, I was kind of upset. And rattled," she mumbled.

Harley nodded.

"Of course you were," she said. "It was an awful thing I did and probably added to your trauma."

"Oh, Harley," Steph said, at first shuffling her cast around to try to get up off of the bed before giving up and holding her arms out.

"Come give me a hug," she said.

Harley sniffed and gave a little smile as she got up and crawled onto the bed, wrapping her arms around Steph tight and squeezing her hard.

"You didn't make me feel more traumatized," Steph said in her ear. "You only told Jason," she said.

"I mean, I only got to know him a little bit before he left with Bane but I had liked him until he got all bitchy with Tim after game night."

"Yeah, he told me he apologized for that," Harley said.

"Yeah, he did," Steph said. "Before he brought up the abuse stuff. Plus, he let me know he knew about my past by telling me he'd been abused, too. So I wasn't super upset he knew. Only kind of upset that I didn't know that he knew and that I was surprised by it."

"Which is totally understandable," Harley said firmly.

"But I forgive you," Steph said, giving her another hug. "Ok?"

"Ok," Harley mumbled against her shoulder. "Thank you."

"I know you were having a really bad day when you told him," Steph added. "Quackman," she giggled, elbowing Harley gently in the ribs, who fell over laughing again.

"You and me gotta watch that show together sometime," Harley said, referencing Darkwing Duck, as she flopped on her back on top of Steph's covers.

"We will," Steph promised. "Damian wants to watch it, too. Ooo," she said, getting excited. "We should pretend with Bruce that we're having a movie night or something and then put it on and force him to watch."

Harley cackled.

"You're becoming evil!" she pronounced. "I love it! My work here is done!" she said, flinging her arms up over her head.

"You and Jason will come back over sometimes, though, right?" Steph asked her in a smaller voice.

"Oh, honey," Harley said, pushing herself up with her elbows to a sitting position again. "Of course we will. We won't be strangers," she promised. "We're family now. I think Jay and your dad are gonna be seein' a lot more eye to eye before we head home tonight. I know Jay wants to talk to him before we go and try to hammer some things out."

"You're leaving tonight?" Steph said in a pitifully sad puppy voice, taking Harley aback.

"Well… maybe?" Harley said slowly. "We were going to now that Jay's back but I mean… maybe we could stay one more night…" she said reluctantly.

"Or until the weekend?" Steph pleaded.

Harley snorted.

"One more night is all you'll be lucky to get, kiddo," she said. "I would like to go home. I've loved living with all of you guys and even with Batsy, believe it or not - but his house is like a fucking museum," she complained.

"It feels like I oughtta be stealin' shit but I'm scared of what Alfred would do to me if I slipped some silver spoons into my suitcase."

Steph laughed.

"I've heard rumors that make it sound like you don't want to find out," she said, "but Dick and Babs won't ever tell us the story of what actually happened."

"Jay will," Harley said with confidence. "We'll get him to spill the beans later. When Alfred ain't around."

"Deal," Steph said, bumping her fist to Harley's.

"By the way," Harley said, getting up and reaching over to help Steph maneuver her broken ankle to the floor and get to a standing position before handing her the crutches, "I think you should tell Bruce about your assault when you're ready. That way he'll be prepared in advance to support you if you ever get triggered about it in the future."

"Ok," Steph sighed. "That's probably a good idea. I told Tim about it."

"That was really brave," Harley said, squeezing Steph's arm a little bit.

"Does it feel better to be talking about it after keeping it locked inside for all those years?" she asked the teenager as they made their way to the bedroom door, which Harley opened for Steph to swing through.

"Yeah, it does actually," Steph said with a little smile. "I didn't realize how bad holding it in was making me feel until I started letting it out."

Harley smiled at her sympathetically.

"Secrets are like that," she said. "Poison."

"What's poison?" Tim asked, coming down the hall from his bedroom and overhearing the last word.

"Secrets, apparently," Steph said to him before he leaned in and gave her the sweetest little kiss on the lips.

Tim snickered.

"Bruce is living proof of that," he said, making Harley and Steph burst out laughing, too, as they headed down the stairs.

In the kitchen, Damian and Alfred were already hard at work cooking breakfast while Jason was slicing and dicing the fruit salad with remarkable speed and accuracy.

He had made his way down a little early to let Harley have time to chat with Steph and had smiled warmly when he came upon little Damian standing on a stepstool at the stove to ladle the pancakes out while Alfred fussed over the bacon and eggs.

"Good morning, oh firstborn son of mine," Jason sang to Damian, prompting a little smile on the tiny boy's face.

"Mornin', Al," Jason added as he tried to head straight for the pot of coffee, but he was intercepted by the warmly smiling butler.

"Ah, Master Jason! Welcome home, sir," Alfred had said, hesitating only a moment to read Jason's mood before stretching his arms out to hug him.

"Thanks, Al," Jason murmured, holding the older man close for a minute, closing his eyes and inhaling all of the good food smells on his shirt the way he used to do when he was a kid in the mornings before school.

Alfred was a little teary when Jason released him, but he bravely soldiered on with cooking breakfast, returning to Damian's side to attend to turning the bacon.

"Good morning, baba," Damian said as Jason kissed the top of his head. "I have not burned any pancakes yet this morning," he said.

"Good for you, habibi," Jason said, lightly squeezing his shoulders. "But it's ok if you do. I'll eat the burned ones," he said.

"Really?" Damian said in surprise, turning his head to face him.

"Sure," Jason said, smiling. "That's what parents do, right?"

"Bane had me throw them out and make more," Damian said, looking puzzled.

"I believe that was what is called a learning opportunity, Master Damian," Alfred said, looking down at him gravely. "To assist you in relinquishing the urge to flambé my kitchen."

"Oh," Damian said pensively as Jason started laughing so hard his sides shook.

"What is so funny?" Damian asked him, frowning.

"There was this one time," Jason coughed out, still laughing, "when Talia and Bruce were together, when she got so mad -"

"Master Jason!" Alfred barked severely. "We do _not _speak of that incident in this house!"

Damian stared at Alfred, whose eyebrows had drawn together in a most foreboding and alarming fashion, making him almost resemble Damian's other grandfather whilst on a rampage.

How intriguing, Damian thought, neglecting to watch his pancakes as he tried to suss out the meaning of Alfred's mood.

Jason stared open-mouthed at Alfred for a split second, too, before breaking down into another fit of laughter, bending over double and leaning on the island counter for support.

"Your pancakes, Master Damian," Alfred said quickly, redirecting Damian's attention back to the griddle in the nick of time.

"Thank you, Grandfather," Damian said politely, expertly flipping the pancakes over with his spatula in a neat and precise succession.

"You should not distract me when I am cooking, baba," Damian said to Jason reprovingly. "Distractions lead to death."

"You asked me why I was laughing," Jason pointed out, still giggling as he poured himself a cup of coffee.

"Tt," Damian said. "You have forgotten how to control your emotions."

Jason paused mid-step and looked at Damian somberly.

"Some things your mom taught us are worth forgetting," the former assassin said gently, laying his hand on Damian's shoulder.

Damian peered up at him silently, considering this statement.

"And some memories are worth burned pancakes," Jason added, giving Alfred a little wink, who harrumphed in a most threatening manner.

"The fruit salad needs cutting, Master Jason," the butler said warningly.

"All right, all right," Jason said with a grin. "We'll talk later when Grumpy isn't around," he said in Arabic to Damian, making the boy giggle and Alfred huff, although the butler was far less displeased inwardly than he was letting on.

For it was simply astounding to see the change in young Master Damian, who could hardly produce a smile mere months ago, and now the lad was giggling like a proper child. What an extraordinary transformation, Alfred thought to himself.

Not that it justified the repetition of certain horrific incidents, of course, involving the sanctity of one's cutlery.

Jason was almost done slicing and dicing the fruit by the time Harley, Steph, and Tim made their way into the kitchen just before one p.m. He immediately set his knife down and came over to Harley, pulling her into a gentle hug and kissing her temple.

"All better?" he asked her quietly, glancing at Steph, who gave him a little smile and a nod.

"Yeah," Harley said with some relief. "As better as it can be, anyway," she said with a smile that only slightly resembled a grimace.

Jason squeezed her tighter, rocking Harley against him until the breath she was holding came out in a whoosh and her shoulders started to relax. He started peppering her cheek with kisses until she finally started giggling under his assault.

"There's my sunshine," Jason murmured to her, sliding his hands from her back to her hips and leaning in to kiss her on the mouth this time.

"Thank you," Harley whispered up to him, all of her love for her husband sparkling out of her eyes.

"Anytime, baby," Jason smiled, happily melting into the kisses that Harley was now pressing onto his lips.

"I hope we're like them after we get married," Tim whispered into Steph's ear as he helped her into her seat.

Her eyes lit up as she reached to pull his head down for a long kiss.

"We totally will be," she promised him. "Always," she said as Tim's happiness at her response glowed out of him.

"There's an awful lot of kissing going on in here," Bruce commented as he and Bane strolled into the kitchen, arms around each other and both looking utterly happy and far more relaxed than normal.

"Perhaps we should add to it," Bane said playfully, bending down to give Bruce a deep kiss that the former Batman couldn't help but sigh into as he chased Bane's tongue with his own.

"Woohoo!" Steph cheered as she lifted her head to see Bruce and Bane making out in the doorway.

"So much for no sex in the mansion, huh, Bruce!" Harley teased him as she and Jason turned their heads to see the cause of Steph's celebration.

Bruce groaned and actually started blushing a little bit as he saw so many eyes on him. And his boyfriend. Which was a fabulously glorious phrase.

"Was that a rule?" Jason asked, his jaw dropping a little bit.

"A preference," Bruce grumbled, his eyes laughing even though he was trying to hide his smile behind his hand.

"No sex in the Batcave was, however, a rule," he said suddenly, trying to frown at Jason and utterly failing as Jason and Harley both smirked at him with zero shame.

"Nothin' at all was ever mentioned about the Batcave, Brucie," Harley said, shaking her finger at him. "No retconning rules, mister."

"Too late anyway," Jason bragged, making her giggle even more.

"I'm aware," Bruce said dryly, "thanks to your brother's very thoughtful security measures which have earned him the twenty-four hour title of favorite son."

"Oh," Jason chuckled, "you tried to come down there, huh? Good looking out on that lockout, Timbers," he said, glancing to the teen, who looked gratefully pleased at both Jason's praise and his new nickname.

Bruce grunted, giving Bane's waist a final tender squeeze before moving to pour them both cups of coffee as Jason went back to finish the fruit salad.

"You're good at that," Bruce said, raising an eyebrow at the rapid blur of Jason's knife.

"Right?" Harley sighed dreamily as Jason grinned.

"I learned a few transferable skills in the League of Assassins," he said as he finished slicing the fruit and slid it from the cutting board to the fruit bowl.

"Mix that up, baby?" he asked Harley as he went to wash the knife off.

Harley looked dubiously at the fruit and cautiously picked up the large spoon.

"Oh, let me," Bruce laughed, taking it from her as she sighed with relief.

"Bane!" Harley burst out suddenly. "Give me a hug! You're home!"

"Indeed I am," Bane smiled, catching Bruce's eye sweetly at the word 'home' as his BFF came scampering over to fling her arms around him.

"I am glad to see you well, Harley," Bane said to her seriously, for once not adopting his goofier persona that tended to come out around her.

"Yeah," Harley said a little grimly. "Thank you, though, for everything," she said, blinking back some tears. "I know I fell apart, but…" she sighed. "At least now he ain't gonna hurt nobody else."

Bane nodded at her and gently squeezed her shoulder.

"It is over and done with," he said comfortingly.

Bruce couldn't help but feel the familiar knot in his gut at the thought of killing, in general, and his Bane killing, in particular, but since he had decided to date Bane anyway, he determinedly stirred the fruit salad and did his best to not get mired in his judgments.

Killing wasn't an action that he would have preferred to live with anywhere near his life, but if the alternative was living without Bane? Or without Jason? Bruce sighed a little bit. Once upon a time, he had lived without compromise in his life, but now he supposed that he was too old and had spent too many years heartbroken to let go of the little good he'd managed to find, even though it came with strings attached.

At least Bane wouldn't be killing anyone as Batman, Bruce reassured himself. And Jason was rarely going out as Red Hood anymore, so he was killing fewer people, too. It wasn't everything, but it was something. And it was something that Bruce had made up his mind to live with, for better or worse.

Bruce looked up to meet Bane's knowing eyes, looking at him compassionately. He gave his boyfriend a little half smile as Bane came over and took the fruit bowl from his hands to set it on the table before pulling him into a hug.

Bruce let out a deep breath as he wrapped his arms around Bane's chest and easily melted into his embrace, thinking that it felt like another lifetime ago when he was too wound up to relax into a proper hug.

"I am sorry," Bane whispered in his ear.

"It's ok," Bruce murmured back. "I picked all of you. Not bits and pieces."

Bane hummed appreciatively into Bruce's hair.

"I am still sorry that there are parts of me that cause you pain," he said tenderly.

"Well," Bruce said quietly, "I'm sure I'll manage to be an asshole often enough for us to call it even," he said and then Bane's belly was shaking as he laughed and Bruce's eyes were twinkling as he chuckled along with him and thought how fucking much he loved this man, and how absurdly crazy life could be.

"Breakfast is ready, Father," Damian said impatiently, poking Bruce's leg. "Come sit down."

"Very well," Bruce said, smiling down at Damian and reaching down to ruffle his son's hair.

"Welcome home, Master Bane," Alfred said with a smile as he carried the eggs and bacon to the table.

"Thank you, Alfred," Bane said, waiting until the butler had set the platters down before pulling him into a hug. "It is good to be home," he added. "And to be able to call this home," he said, suddenly sounding a little choked up.

"Indeed it is, sir," Alfred said, patting his back. "And if I may say so, sir, Wayne Manor is all the more a home for having you in it."

Bane breathed out a happy smile.

"Thank you, my friend," he said gratefully before taking his seat next to Bruce.

As Bruce pressed his leg up against Bane's under the table and Bane leaned down to kiss his shoulder, Bruce thought that Alfred couldn't have said it better.

And as Bruce looked around the table at the smiling faces of Alfred and his motley assortment of children, he thought to himself that his family was all the more a family for having each member of his ragtag clan in it, but they hadn't really felt like a family until Jason had come home - and brought with him a Harley.


	35. Chapter 35

_**Chapter 35**_

"Steph wants us to stay one more night," Harley said to Jason at the Wayne Manor breakfast table as the Batfamily dined together at the very reasonable vigilante hour of one p.m.

"Oh," Jason said, raising his eyebrows in surprise and hesitating.

Damian paused with his fork mid-air and said, "Baba, you were going to leave today?"

The slightest hint of hurt and sadness laced the edges of Damian's voice and twisted like a knife in Jason's gut. He swallowed and turned his head to make silent eye conversation with Harley, who was naturally sitting next to him.

"Harley and Jason have their own home, son," Bruce said, reaching out to lay a hand on little Damian's shoulder. "Jason's been on the road all week and I'm sure he'd like to go relax in his own space."

Damian's face clouded over.

Jason and Harley's mind meld achieved synergy and Jason didn't show any signs of irritation at all when he said gently, "We can stay one more night, habibi."

He reached out to lightly ruffle Damian's hair.

"We do have to go home tomorrow, though," Jason said. "But we'll be back over for visits. And you can come visit us, too," he said, prompting the tiniest of excited smiles on Damian's face.

"You could even stay overnight sometimes, if you want," Harley said, "if you don't mind sleeping on the couch. Our apartment is pretty small."

"I would not mind," Damian said, his face starting to light up before he resumed his interrupted eating.

"You guys can come over, too," Jason added, looking down the table to Tim and Steph. "If you don't mind being packed in like sardines," he smiled. "Harley's not kidding about the size of our space."

"We won't mind," Steph said, smiling a little bit as she glanced at Tim, who nodded. "We'd like to come visit."

"Good," Harley said with satisfaction.

Alfred looked on beatifically while Bane beamed at Bruce, who had the softest of smiles on his face as he watched his children interact.

"It is nice to be a family, eh?" Bane said, lifting his hand to rub Bruce's back.

"It is," Bruce said, his eyes flicking first to Bane with a warm and intimate look and then over to Alfred, who returned his gratefully pleased smile as they both thought back to the state their family had been in barely a month ago, with Bruce and Alfred alternately spacing out and crying all day, staying in their pajamas and drinking endless cups of tea while the abandoned and ignored Batlings secretly patrolled Gotham without supervision or support.

"Speaking of which, Pops," Jason said, looking up at Bruce, "I thought maybe we could talk after breakfast."

"Sure," Bruce said, surprised but happy that Jason was the one initiating the conversation that they both desperately needed to have.

Jason gave him a little nod and went back to eating, concentrating intently on his plate, and if he looked the slightest bit nervous, Bruce gave no indication that he noticed, or that he suspected why Harley was suddenly wrapping an arm around her husband's waist and laying her head down on his shoulder.

"Perhaps while Bruce and Jason have their talk, the four of us and Harley could consult," Bane said, looking around the table at the children. "You must debrief me as to how Harley's patrols with the Suicide Squad went while I was away so that we may make adjustments to our own strategies and consider ways to refine our approach in the field going forward."

Damian nodded eagerly.

"An excellent idea, papi," he said and Bane twitched, startled and quickly overcome with emotion at Damian's easy acknowledgment of him as a new father figure.

Bruce turned his head to regard Bane's watery eyes and reached up to brush the back of his hand against Bane's cheek.

"Welcome to the family, love," Bruce said, leaning in to give Bane a tender kiss to a chorus of "Awwwwww's" by Tim and Steph and Harley.

Alfred and Jason settled for smiling at each other over Bruce's tenderness with Bane, especially when Bruce wiped the tears out of Bane's eyes after pulling back from their kiss.

Damian looked intrigued as he observed Bane's reaction to his new appellation.

"Grandfather had a similar emotional response when I called him 'Grandfather' for the first time," Damian said thoughtfully. "Why was that?" he asked Harley, looking to the psychologist as the most logical person to explain the conundrum.

Harley smiled at him.

"Names have a lot of meaning," she said. "And can carry enormous emotional weight and provoke extreme emotional responses," she said. "That's why I don't let people call me Harley Quinn anymore," she said to Damian.

"I'm either Harley Todd or Harley Hood. I don't want no piece of me left to do with that asshole who fucked me and Jay up so bad."

Jason leaned over and kissed her temple, his eyes communicating both comfort and appreciation for his Harley, who smiled softly up at him.

"Oh!" Bruce said, jumping up from the table. "That reminds me," he said. "Stay right here," he ordered everybody, leaving the room in a hurry.

Steph and Damian looked at each other with eagerly raised eyebrows, then looked at the empty doorway which Bruce had disappeared through. Alfred merely sipped his tea while Bane and Harley shrugged at each other, looking mildly curious, but Tim gave Jason, who had his head down and was poking at his eggs, a look.

"You know something," Tim said to the former Robin suspiciously, drawing all of the other eyes on the table to the man who was trying to hide a smile.

"Maybe," Jason said noncommittally, stuffing a strip of bacon into his mouth without looking up.

"Definitely," Tim said, narrowing his eyes.

"Good detective skills there, Timmy," Jason said, finally raising his eyes to wink at Tim with his mouth full and Tim found himself smiling back and feeling even more relief wash through him that Jason had apparently been sincere in his apology from the previous night.

Heck, he was even going out of his way now to be kind to him and that was a really nice feeling.

"How did you know he had information as to Father's mysterious disappearance?" Damian asked Tim, frowning. "I did not detect any tells."

"The corner of his mouth was twitching," Tim told him. "And he was looking down so we couldn't see in his eyes that he knew. Which, ironically, gave away that he knew something," Tim teased and Jason laughed.

"You got a smart sidekick here, Bane," Jason said to the older man.

"Yes," Bane said with pride. "The future of Gotham will be left in capable hands one day," he said, making Tim turn a little bit pink.

"Multiple capable hands," Steph corrected cheerfully, looking over at Damian. "Right, future Robin?" she asked him.

"Affirmative, Batgirl," Damian nodded briskly. "I am far superior to both you and Timothy Drake in combat skills and always will be," he said with calm self-assurance. "So it is indeed fortunate that you will both have my assistance to benefit from in the future."

"And Steph is far superior to both of us at improvising on the fly," Tim said, looking at his girlfriend with admiration, "and she will rush in fearlessly to any situation," he added, making her beam.

"I am also fearless," Damian grumbled, "but Father will not yet allow Bat-Mite to leave his side during patrols."

"Good," Jason and Harley both said severely, in unison, without forethought or hesitation.

"Bat-Mite doesn't even need to be out there," Harley grumped, giving Damian a look, which he scathingly returned.

"I was the most skilled assassin in the League of Assassins, Harley Hood," he said derisively. "I am far safer on the streets of Gotham than anyone seated at this table," he said.

"No, you ain't," Harley said forcefully. "Fighting on patrol is way different than sneaking up on somebody to kill them. You can't predict and plan out your exit strategy like you can with a planned assassination when you're out fightin' crime on the streets," she said.

"There's too many variables on patrol and random villains that can pop up with new and improved weapons and before you know it, shit's gone sideways. Believe me, I oughtta know," she said grimly. "I've been on the other side of those fights," she said.

"Harley's right," Jason said firmly to Damian. "What Talia taught us in the League was very different than a street brawl. Yes, you're an amazing fighter, little D," he said more gently, "but you need a team when you're in an unpredictable situation like out on the streets of Gotham. Even Talia took a whole crew out when it was a mission like that," Jason said.

"Those are the ones I babysat you for," he added pointedly, giving Damian a look. "Because a zombie and a little kid were liabilities in a chaotic situation where you had to think fast on your feet and work with your teammates."

Damian huffed in frustration.

"Fine, baba," he said with a very irritated sigh. "I bow to your superior wisdom," he muttered reluctantly, but not sarcastically.

"And to Harley's," Harley grinned at him.

Damian sighed again with the burden of an old man's weariness resting on his seven-year old shoulders.

"And to yours," he said to Harley, though, before frowning.

"I do not know how to address you now, Harley Todd," he said to her. "Since you have become in some respects a mother figure to me, especially since you are married to baba, yet you are quite unlike my own mother," he said, prompting a compassionate look from Jason and a soft, sad sigh from Alfred.

Bane merely tightened his jaw, but the dark look in his eyes said to Steph and Tim everything that they needed to know about his feelings towards Talia, who due to her brainwashing had abused Damian from infancy and forcibly trained the small boy in the art of assassination.

"Father and baba and papi are all similar in their care and regard for me," Damian continued to say as Bruce re-entered the room with two rectangular wrapped packages and a large gift bag in his hands.

"But if names contain such great meaning," Damian said to Harley with a perplexed look on his face, "it does not feel appropriate to use a word for you related to the word 'mother.'"

"Whatever you want to call me is fine, Damian," Harley said softly, stretching across Jason to squeeze Damian's hand.

"You don't gotta decide right now, either. You can keep callin' me Harley for the time being," she said.

Damian nodded gravely at her.

"Then I shall," he said.

"Speaking of new names," Bruce said, clearing his throat and drawing everyone's attention to himself, "I thought perhaps something else new was in order," he said, handing the boxes across the table, the smaller one to Jason and the larger one to Harley, who also got the gift bag.

"Bruce!" Harley said in delighted surprise. "What's all this for?"

He shrugged slightly bashfully.

"A wedding gift," Bruce said with a little smile, looking at his son and daughter-in-law who were so in love that they had inspired him to open his deadened, discouraged heart up to the possibility of finding love again in his own life.

Which, as the Universe - or as Bane would say, God - would have it, had perfectly aligned with the timing of Bane's sweetly determined efforts to make amends for the past by joining the Batfamily and taking up the mantle of Batman in order to ease Bruce's burden in the midst of his emotional breakdown over how he had failed Jason as a child.

"It's also a 'thank you' to you, Harley," Bruce added. "For all of your help this week with patrols."

"Open yours first, baby," Jason said eagerly.

"How come you got to know what it is already?" Harley pouted to her husband.

"I needed to consult with Jason about some of the details to get it just right," Bruce explained. "It's mostly a present for you, anyway."

"Ok," Harley said, looking between the two grinning men. Around the table, Alfred, Bane, and the kids seemed as in the dark as she was and eager for her to open her gift.

Harley ripped the wrapping paper off, balling it up and about to drop it on the floor before she was quickly arrested by Alfred, who almost magically appeared at her elbow to take the trash from her, much to Jason's amusement, if his quiet snorting and snickering was any indication.

"Sorry, Alfred," Harley mumbled.

"Quite so, miss," Alfred graciously replied, carrying the paper across the kitchen to dispose of it properly in the recycling bin.

Harley gave a little giggle before lifting the lid of the box to look inside. She raised her eyebrows as she pulled out the first item, a pair of skin-tight khaki colored combat pants in her size.

She raised a pair of questioning eyes to Bruce.

"I thought since you weren't Harley Quinn anymore that your uniform could use a redesign," Bruce said with a smile.

"Batsy," Harley said in shock. "That's really nice of ya," she said, starting to tear up a little.

"Keep going," Jason urged her. "It gets better."

Harley sniffed away her tears as she lifted the pants out and laid them in her lap, but she had to put a hand on her mouth to hold back a sob at what was underneath.

Staring up at her was a black Kevlar top inscribed with a red bat on the front identical to Red Hood's, except the bat was now sporting a sky blue queen's crown topped with red baubles, tilted at a rakish angle over the bat's head.

"The sleeves and back are red," Jason explained, pulling the top out to show her the stylized details as Harley sat immobilized with emotion.

"So we'll look like our outfits match when I've got my jacket on," Jason beamed, "but this way your clothes are still thin like your harlequin top so you can do your acrobatics and stuff."

Harley's sob escaped as Jason slung an arm over her shoulders and hugged her close, kissing her head. The look that Harley gave Bruce was filled with so much gratitude and appreciation that he started to get a little teary eyed, too, and even turned a little red.

"There's a matching top for Jason," Bruce mumbled, "with the blue crown on the bat."

Bane, who was almost as teary now as Harley, looked in awe at Bruce like he really was some kind of superhero instead of a fucked-up mess.

"Thank you," Harley choked out, wiping her tears as Bruce quietly nodded back at her with a little smile that he couldn't quite hide.

"Don't forget the gift bag!" Steph said eagerly. "What's that?"

"Oh!" Harley said. "Yeah, let's see what's in here," she said, her jaw dropping and an enormously pleased noise of appreciation coming out of her mouth when she pulled out an actual blue crown, sized for her head, complete with red baubles.

"You're not a jester anymore," Bruce explained to her with a sly smile.

"Damn straight," Harley said, trying for bravado as she cleared her throat, but still sounding a little weepy.

"It's got a life meter and comms in it," Bruce added, "linked to the Batcave. In case you ever need help when you're out being Harley Hood."

"Aw, Batsy!" Harley said, truly touched.

"And the red jewels shoot out a smokescreen," Jason said with glee, pulling a blue armband out of the box that had the remote controls. "But I'm gonna fix it up for you so some of them will shoot lasers, too," he said.

"Jason!" Bruce barked angrily. "We discussed that."

"Yeah," Jason said playfully. "We discussed it and you said you wouldn't put the lasers in. I never said that I wouldn't," he smirked.

"Lasers," Steph cooed, practically drooling.

"Lasers would improve the functionality tenfold, Father," Damian said, nodding very seriously at Steph and Jason with approval.

"But how would you aim?" Tim said skeptically.

"Exactly," Bruce huffed in frustration. "Batboy gets it."

Tim grinned up at him, pleased at the compliment.

"Sometimes you don't need to aim, Brucie," Harley said cheerfully. "Ya just gotta shoot stuff."

"Oh, God," Bruce muttered, sinking his head down onto his arms, which were propped up on the table in a most distressing breach of etiquette, judging by Alfred's slight frown.

"There, there, Bruce," Bane comforted him, rubbing his back. "Our Harley knows what she is doing."

Bruce emitted a muffled groan.

"I could make you a little eyepiece, babe," Jason said - "The term is monocle," Alfred murmured under his breath - "and put some cameras on the crown so you can sight and aim in all four directions," Jason finished.

"Oooo," Harley and Steph said together, before giggling at each other.

"Jinx," said Harley, reaching out her pinky, which Steph laughingly joined with hers.

"That would be so cool," Steph said dreamily. "Do you think you could add lasers and a cam to my Batgirl cowl, too?" she asked Jason, not even looking to Bruce for approval.

"Sure," Jason said easily as Bruce said, "No."

"They'd have to shoot out your Bat-ears, though," Jason said thoughtfully, stroking his chin as he visualized Batgirl's costume.

"No," Bruce repeated.

"Out the ears would be awesome!" Steph said, bouncing in her seat. "Right, Tim?" she said.

"That would be pretty cool," Tim agreed. "We could put lenses in the cowl that had the video feed, like Jason's hood has, I assume?" he said and Jason nodded.

"I said 'no'," Bruce said a little louder. "Why is no one listening to me?"

"Because you are not Batman anymore, Father," Damian said in an extremely reasonable tone of voice, as if he was explaining common sense to a child much younger than he was.

"Plus, Bane hasn't said no," Harley pointed out with a grin.

Steph looked up at Bane, who looked slightly taken aback to have the decision thrust upon him.

"Pleeeeeeease?" Steph pleaded with him as Bruce continued to huff in offense. "Pretty please, Bane?" she said.

"Well -" Bane said, hesitantly thinking it over and quite possibly searching for a valid excuse to deny the teenager's request.

"You broke my ankle," Steph wheedled him.

"Oh!" Jason burst out in delighted approval. "Low blow!"

Bane groaned, sensing an imminent defeat.

"I haven't even been able to patrol since you've been Batman," Steph complained, sensing her in. "I've been so sad," she moaned dramatically, "and in so much pain. Which I have only taken Advil for…"

Bane looked at Bruce.

"Don't look at me," Bruce said dryly. "She's your daughter, too. And your Batgirl. I no longer have the right to get involved," Bruce said, deliberately stuffing a forkful of pancakes in his mouth.

"Bat-mite said so," he added cheerfully around his mouthful of food as Bane's eyes pleaded with him for help.

"I love you, Baaaaane," Steph sang as Tim giggled.

Bane sighed helplessly.

"Daughters have super-powers," Bruce mumbled to him. "You know you can't resist."

"Very well, Stephanie," Bane said reluctantly, meeting Alfred's amused eyes and getting a tiny headshake of mirth from the elderly butler.

"Yessss!" Steph shouted, pumping her fist in the air. "Woowoowoo! Laaaaaaaaaserssssss!"

"And smokescreen," Jason said, grinning as Bane and Bruce looked at each other in mutual fatherly resignation.

"I can add both," Jason said proudly.

"But you will not be permitted to wear the laser cowl until you have demonstrated complete target accuracy during training," Bane said firmly to Steph, desperately adding a boundary to her new gear.

"Okokok, no problem," the teenager said, waving her hand airily. "I'll practice."

"We can practice together," Harley said cheerfully.

"Indeed," Bane said. "I suppose you may begin practicing in a seated position while your ankle heals, Stephanie," he conceded, making Steph cheer some more.

"Do you not also wish for lasers, Timothy Drake?" Damian asked him curiously, noting Batboy's silence on the matter.

"Nah," Tim said peacefully. "I'm good with my bo staff and the hand weapons like the batarangs," he said.

"Thank God," Bruce muttered. "One sane child."

"You might earn the title of favorite son for a second day," Bruce added, raising his voice to address Tim directly.

"No way," Jason pouted as Tim smiled. "I'm installing the lasers. I should be the favorite."

"Yes, you're installing the lasers," Bruce said dryly. "You should be the least favorite."

"Pssh," Jason said cheerfully as he shoveled some more eggs into his mouth. "We both know I can't ever be the least favorite. _Because I died,_" he whispered theatrically.

Bruce and Tim's eyes flew open wide at Jason's audacity.

"Master Jason," Alfred started to say severely as Bruce's eyes continued to goggle out of his head.

"Yes, Alfred?" Jason said sweetly, fluttering his eyelashes down the table at his grandfather.

Who, against his better judgment, hadn't stopped Bruce from putting Jason in the suit once upon a time.

The butler cleared his throat, realizing that he didn't have a leg to stand on, and wisely said nothing more, taking a sip of tea instead.

"You're the favorite brother," Steph proclaimed to Jason, breaking the tension. "But only for twenty-four hours, little D," she promised Damian.

"Acceptable," Damian nodded.

"On that note," Bruce said with a sigh, running a hand through his hair as he stood up from the table, "are you done eating, Jay?" he asked his son wearily, not even realizing that he'd fallen into his childhood abbreviation of Jason's name.

But the way Jason twitched before suddenly stilling let Harley know that Jay had definitely noticed Bruce's affectionate handle. One which he hadn't heard out of his father's mouth since before he'd died.

"Sure, Pops," Jason said hoarsely, looking to Harley to give him one last boost of courage.

She nodded at him slightly with a little smile and he stood, clasping a hand to her shoulder and bending down to give her a kiss before moving to join Bruce.

"Let's go talk," Bruce said, meeting his son's apprehensive eyes without hesitation, despite the nerves and guilt churning in his own stomach.

Jay nodded and Bruce only thought about it for a second before reaching a hand up to squeeze the back of his son's neck and rub his back as they walked together out of the kitchen into what would hopefully become a more reconciled future.

* * *

_A/N Thanks for reading! Fanfic writers are thirsty vampires and comments are our lifeblood. (But if you are mean, we will cut a bitch. Because we are vampires rawr) _

_I update this story once a week. _

_If you like this fic, please consider checking out my other longfic, "A Light in the Dark," featuring Batman and the Justice League, and my many other Batman universe stories. _


	36. Chapter 36

_**Chapter 36**_

"Where would you like to talk?" Bruce asked Jason as they left the kitchen together. "My study?"

"The Batcave," Jason said firmly.

"Oh," Bruce said, looking at Jason with surprise.

"Is that ok?" Jason asked him, raising an eyebrow.

"It's fine," Bruce said, swallowing. "I just thought… given how many bad memories…"

He trailed off and awkwardly rubbed the back of his neck with one hand. Jason sighed.

"Can't keep running from it forever, Pops," he said pragmatically.

"I guess not," Bruce murmured. "I suppose that's wise to face it," he muttered under his breath, seemingly bolstering his own confidence rather than Jason's.

Father and son walked quietly towards the conservatory for a few minutes, before Bruce turned to Jason suddenly, his mouth twitching.

"Is that why…?" he asked him.

"Why what?" Jason smirked.

"You know what," Bruce scolded him, turning a little red.

"Why you fucked your wife in my Batcave," he elaborated, groaning, when Jason kept staring at him blankly and refused to help him out.

"So you'd have some good memories in there instead of only bad ones," Bruce added, sounding more ashamed than embarrassed now.

"It wasn't the only reason," Jason said, looking like he was holding back laughter.

Over what, Bruce had no idea.

Until the elevator deposited them in the Batcave. It took him a minute to notice, being more concerned over monitoring Jason's emotional reactions to once again being in the Batcave with him - as well as his own emotions, if Bruce was being honest.

The last time that he and Jason had been in the Batcave together, Jason had been Robin. And alive. For the first time.

So it wasn't until they made their way down to the Batcomputer chairs that Bruce noticed the vandalized and empty memorial display case where Jason's tattered death suit had stood for the last seven years in a perpetual shroud of dust-free misery.

Bruce's jaw dropped open and for a second Jason thought that he might yell. Hell, he could practically see the steam coming out of his father's ears.

But Bruce, to his credit, closed his eyes for a long minute. Far longer than counting to ten should have taken. Maybe he was counting in each language that he knew, Jason thought with glee.

"Where is your suit?" Bruce asked him in a tight, quiet voice after a long silence.

"Upstairs," Jason said calmly. "In my dresser."

"Oh," Bruce said, his shoulders instantly relaxing.

Jason gave him an odd look.

"I thought maybe you burned it or something," Bruce mumbled, wiping his eyes.

"That would have bothered you?" Jason asked him curiously.

Bruce shot him a disbelieving look.

"I've only kept your suit preserved in there for the last seven years," he said dryly. "Yes, that would have bothered me."

"Why?" Jason asked him, though, moving to take a seat and stretching his legs out in front of him.

"It's my suit," Jason pointed out. "And I'm not dead anymore."

Bruce sighed heavily as he sat, too, leaning back in his chair and looking up at the cave ceiling for a moment.

"I hope you never lose a child," Bruce said finally, looking back down at Jason. "That suit was the last object on earth that you touched," he said. "Keeping it here beside me…"

He got quiet again for a minute.

"I wasn't with you when you died," Bruce said hoarsely, his tears starting to flow. "Your suit was. I suppose I was desperate to have it nearby, like maybe it held some little spark or memory of you in its fibers that I had missed gathering up when you passed without me there."

"Oh, Pops," Jason said, feeling his own heart start to break, too, as Bruce began to cry more helplessly.

"Come here," Jason said gently, scooting forward in his chair to pull Bruce into his arms.

"I'm here," Jason said soothingly. "I'm back, Pops. Ok?"

"I'm sorry," Bruce gasped as he kept crying into Jason's shoulder. "You're the one who died. It's not about me. I shouldn't -"

"It's ok," Jason murmured, rubbing his back and holding his father tight.

He let Bruce cry for a few minutes before he quietly said, "You know, Pops, I was so angry at you when I got back. For so many reasons," he said. "Over Robin, mostly. And Joker being alive, so I thought, and not even in Arkham."

"You had every right to be angry," Bruce insisted through his tears.

"I know," Jason said honestly. "I did. But, still. I never really considered what it was like for you to lose me," he said. "I guess I thought that I had it worse, being the one who died, so you deserved whatever you felt."

"You did and I did," Bruce mumbled.

"That can be true without me being callous about it," Jason pointed out.

"It is possible for me to have empathy for you, too, you know. Despite what you did, putting me in the suit," Jason said. "Your intention wasn't to hurt me."

"I can tell you're married to a psychologist," Bruce said, attempting to chuckle and leaning back to wipe his eyes on his sleeve.

"Yeah, well, it has its perks," Jason smiled faintly. "Harley's helped me a lot."

"She's helped me, too, this week," Bruce admitted. "I've really enjoyed having her here."

"I would give you the suit back," Jason said, "if it means that much to you. Except, um, I kind of wore it to fuck Harley," he mumbled into his shoulder, not quite able to hide his smile.

"Jason!" Bruce said, scandalized now. "In my suit?"

"My suit," Jason corrected, in a teasing laugh.

"Your childhood suit," Bruce said, looking nauseated.

"Which showed my manly body off to its full potential," Jason gloated. "Harley was very -"

"Stop!" Bruce begged him, covering his ears. "Ugh. Keep the suit," he grumbled. "I'll never be able to look at it the same way again."

"I could give you the booties back," Jason offered seriously. "They didn't fit me anymore."

"Thank God," Bruce said, rolling his eyes. "Yes, please. I would like the booties back. If that's all right," he said hesitantly.

"It is," Jason said slowly. "I get now why maybe it comforts you to have a piece of my suit from that day."

"But…" he said, twisting uncomfortably in his chair, "do you have to keep them in a freaking museum case? That really creeped me the hell out. Harley, too," he said. "She saw me dead that day, you know, when I was last wearing it. Which is why she killed Jokes, because it upset her so much."

Bruce sighed.

"I'd still like to be able to look at them," he said, thinking over how to accommodate Jason's request. "And I don't keep Batman paraphernalia upstairs for identity reasons," he said.

"You're gonna be keeping Bane up there from now on, though," Jason said with a playful grin. "Ain't like Bruce Wayne is gonna be able to take Bane out in public on dates and shit and last I checked, you hadn't confined him to the Batcave."

"That's true," Bruce said, stroking his chin. "I suppose… I could keep the shoes in my bedroom," he conceded.

"Thanks, Pops," Jason said with whole-hearted relief.

"If anyone ever breaks into the mansion and sees them," Jason said, "assuming they make it past Bane without dying, of course - just tell the papers you bought the booties off the black market as a piece of death merchandise. For the collectors' value."

"Stop," Bruce said, starting to chuckle in earnest now.

"What?" Jason said. "You're rich enough. Rich people have all kinds of weird obsessive collections."

"You're bad," Bruce said, laughing.

"I'm not the one with a dead kid's clothes in a museum case," Jason smirked.

"Formerly dead kid's," Bruce corrected, his eyes a little warmer.

"Yeah," Jason smiled. "Don't forget that, old man."

"I won't," Bruce murmured, looking at Jason fondly in a way that made him squirm a little bit.

"What?" Bruce said, noticing Jason's discomfort.

"It's just," Jason said, then hesitated. "It's gonna hurt you," he said softly, looking down at his hands.

"Tell me anyway," Bruce said gently, reaching out to rub Jason's shoulder.

Jason sighed.

"That's how you used to look at me after you adopted me," he mumbled, his cheeks turning a little pink. "Like you loved me."

"I did love you," Bruce said, looking into his son's eyes.

"I know," Jason said. "I know that now, I mean. But back then, Pops - I couldn't understand why you did. I was a street rat from the Narrows who nobody cared about. No one had ever loved me, except my mom, I guess," he said.

Bruce's face got a little sad but he kept quiet, letting Jason talk.

"I thought you wouldn't love me anymore if I said no to being Robin," Jason said softly, looking down at his hands. "Crimefighting was your big thing, Pops," he said, rubbing his head.

"And when you told me you were Batman, I figured that's why you'd adopted me in the first place, 'cause you'd caught me stealing the tires off the Batmobile and you thought I'd make a good Robin with all that moxie. So I didn't really think it would be ok to say no," Jason finished, gulping a little.

Bruce sighed long and hard.

"I wish I'd known better back then," he said. "And not been so damn arrogant that I thought I didn't need parenting advice," he muttered. "Bane told me awhile back, before your trip, when I'd first met him, that you felt like you couldn't disappoint me by saying no to Robin."

"Yeah," Jason said, raising his grief-stricken eyes to Bruce's.

"I'm sorry," Bruce said in a rough voice laced with tears.

"I know the words aren't adequate, but the biggest regret of my life will always be putting you in that position where you felt like you had to agree to something that you absolutely did not want to do."

"Well, it wasn't like I hadn't already been in that position for most of my life," Jason muttered with an amount of bitterness that somewhat surprised Bruce.

"In a lot of ways, I was already conditioned to say yes no matter what," said Jason, his mouth twisting into a grimace.

Bruce's eyes met his with naked pain. He swallowed.

"Sexual abuse?" he asked hesitantly and Jason nodded.

"Fuck," Bruce muttered, scrubbing his face with his hands.

"I suspected," he said, surprising the hell out of Jason.

"You did?" Jason said in shock.

"I am a detective," Bruce said wryly. "You had the signs. But being the all-wise, all-mighty father that I was," he said with self-deprecating sarcasm, "I thought I shouldn't push you to talk about it before you were ready. I didn't really trust therapy," he said, looking more than a little abashed.

Jason snorted.

"Well, it never worked on the Arkham inmates," Bruce pointed out with a weak laugh. "So, you know, I thought I knew better," he sighed. "I was Batman," he mocked himself, actually getting a giggle out of Jason.

Bruce gave him the ghost of a smile, although it was filled with past regrets.

"I was worried about pushing you into therapy to talk about it too soon," he said, "especially given that I had serious doubts about the efficacy of therapy in the first place."

"Arkham inmates are kind of the exception, you know," Jason said with dry amusement. "Your average person with mental health issues doesn't end up institutionalized for life."

"Yeah, yeah," Bruce sighed.

"Most of the Arkham rogues don't get better, anyway, because they can't keep good therapists on over there," Jason said, starting to warm up to the topic. "There's no consistency of care and it leads to the patients' progressive mistrust of each new therapist who's forced upon them."

"Now I know you're married to a psychologist," Bruce smiled.

"I wish Harley could still practice," Jason said. "She loved it. And was damn good at it, from what I hear. You know, she's still way more upset about the harm it caused her patients from Jokes twisting her inside out than about what it did to her."

Bruce hummed sympathetically.

"She's a good person," he said sincerely. "I wish we had more doctors like her. Who would stick around," he said and Jason nodded.

"Speaking of psychiatric issues," Bruce said.

"Oh, this should be good," Jason grinned.

Bruce groaned a little bit.

"Well, the reason why I didn't kill Joker to avenge you - aside from not being able to find him because he was actually already dead, which I didn't know - and why I don't kill anyone," Bruce went on, "it's not just a moral code."

"No?" Jason said. "I kind of figured it was also because your parents were killed. Although I still think you should have killed Jokes for me. Had Harley not beat you to it. Joker was nothing like your parents."

"I know," Bruce said. "That's not why, either, though. Not really."

He looked at Jason miserably.

"Ever since the night my parents died, I fantasized about killing their murderer when I was old enough and could find him. My rage was the only thing that got me through my childhood," he said.

"And then it was what propelled me to become Batman. The first time I wanted to kill someone as Batman, it was a rapist," he said. "I thought, it would be so easy. A blight would be gone."

"Exactly," Jason grunted. "That's why I take them out, Pops."

"I know," Bruce said, holding up his hand. "I know you think I don't understand that, but I do. The difference between us, though, son, is that my reasons for killing would have been a rationalization."

"You execute criminals who deserve it," Bruce said. "I don't like it. I wish you didn't do it. But at least you're administering justice with your way of killing."

"But me?" he said. "I didn't really want to kill that rapist for raping. I wanted to kill him for the sake of killing," Bruce said, looking down. "Because it would have satisfied that violent hunger inside of me."

"I realized then that if I started killing, I would never be able to turn it off and on. You and Bane and Harley are able to," Bruce sighed, "but I would only be feeding my own dark desires with each murder. Bane says killing is my Venom," he added ruefully.

"Oh," Jason said, tilting his head sideways to look at Bruce thoughtfully.

"You feel that murderous all the time?" he asked him. "Still?"

Bruce nodded, looking embarrassed.

"Always," he mumbled. "Especially towards Joker. Towards him more than anyone. Well, more than anyone except whoever abused you as a kid," Bruce said, reaching a hand out to cup Jason's cheek, looking at him with soft and sorry eyes that made Jason tear up and sniff a little bit.

"It's good I didn't have your abusers' names back then," Bruce added seriously.

Jason snorted, but it wasn't a really funny sound.

"Hell, Bruce, I didn't even know their names," he said, sighing and looking up for a minute before wiping his eyes.

Bruce grunted sympathetically.

"Can your father give you a hug?" he asked Jason.

"Yeah," Jason mumbled, smiling a little self-consciously in a way that made Bruce's heart light up for joy, despite the heavy topic.

Because the way Jason was smiling at him? Was the way that little Jason used to smile up at Bruce, too, when he was sad and Bruce would offer him comfort.

And yeah, Bruce still wanted the Robin booties back. As a father, he needed that physical connection to his baby boy who died without him there.

But to see Jay's shy smile again? That he'd thought was lost to him forever?

Bruce supposed that it didn't really matter if Jason kept the rest of the suit, as long as his son kept giving him back his little boy's sweet smile.

* * *

_A/N Thanks for reading! Fanfic writers are thirsty vampires and comments are our lifeblood. (But if you are mean, we will cut a bitch. Because we are vampires rawr)_

_I update this story once a week._

_If you like this fic, please consider checking out my other longfic, "A Light in the Dark," featuring Batman and the Justice League, and my many other Batman universe stories._


	37. Chapter 37

_**Chapter 37**_

"Ooo, Lenny, that girl I met last night just texted me!" Killer Frost exclaimed with glee as Captain Cold walked back into the living room from the kitchen of one of Harley's safehouses with two more diet sodas in his hands for them.

The friends had taken Harley up on her offer of temporary living quarters, not wanting the publicity or targets on their back that staying in a hotel would inevitably lead to, given their newfound infamy as publicly pardoned Suicide Squad members.

Killer Croc had, of course, gone straight to his girlfriend June Moone's apartment in Gotham, but Deadshot had also been staying in the Prepper's Dreamhouse, as the friends had taken to calling Harley's crammed-to-the-gills loft filled with a huge cache of weapons, food, and medical supplies.

With Batman and Red Hood having returned to Gotham and ready to patrol again, however, Floyd had left Gotham that morning to return to his girls in Star City, where he'd be taking up permanent residence with his baby mama and daughter.

His parting had been more emotional than any of the team members had wanted to admit, so there had been a ton of insults thrown between the group of friends instead. They'd all been in Arkham together for the last two years and on the Squad for most of that time since Amanda Waller had come on board as the new warden not long after Deadshot's incarceration at Nightwing's hands.

Sure, the Suicide Squad would still go on missions together. But Killer Croc, Captain Cold, and Killer Frost were planning to stay in Gotham for the time being. Star City was five hours by bus and when the friends had been accustomed to eating every meal together in Arkham, hanging out in the yard daily, and sneaking out of their cells for late-night poker games a few times a week, life wasn't going to be the same.

Hell, it had already been rough on the team when Harley had broken out of Arkham several months ago, despite her continued care for her crew from the outside. And leaving Cluemaster behind on the inside had been hard, too, when Harley had arranged for their pardons last week.

Out of all of them, Arthur Brown was the one who took the moral mission of the Squad the most seriously. He wanted to atone for his past life due to his guilt over his treatment of his daughter, Stephanie (an unexpectedly positive result of his therapy treatments, which had started to go much better once Harley had killed his first therapist who had deprogrammed the Cluemaster - at Amanda Waller's order - from his M.O. of leaving a littered trail of clues after his crimes) so Arthur was therefore the most sober-minded, dedicated member of the Suicide Squad.

He kept the others on track and was in the habit of reminding them why their missions were important - even though they all teased the hell out of him for it and even though Cold and Croc liked to argue with him non-stop about the moral failings of the United States government and the often ethically questionable covert missions that Operation Cadmus sent them on.

Deadshot and Killer Frost, however, just wanted to kill people and they didn't give a shit about who their targets were. So hey, if the government wanted to send them off to enjoy their favorite pastime? Great!

Their only complaints were the spectacularly horrible backup and inadequate resources that they were given in the field, plus the blackmail threats against their loved ones, which particularly enraged Floyd because Waller had threatened Gabi and Kiara.

Frosty, in her case, only pretended to care about her mom in therapy; in reality she hated her guts and couldn't care less if Waller offed her. Frost's beef was the threat to her own life, which pissed her the fuck off.

But now that Harley had dealt with that, and they'd be better taken care of on missions? Fuck yeah, Ouisie wanted to go kill people.

She and Len had decided to lay low together for awhile at Harley's prepper pad now that their Batpatrol gig was over. They'd been in prison for so long that they didn't mind the lack of floor space or ratty furniture. There was a tv, a couch, and mattresses, and that was good enough.

That morning after Deadshot had stepped onto the bus to Star City and Waylon and June had headed back to their own place, Frosty and Len had looked at each other in mutual dismay.

"We should live together," Leonard said to her. "Once we're ready to move out from Harley's place."

"Fuck yeah, we should," Ouisie had said in relief, not all liking the empty, hollow feeling inside of her as she stood at the bus depot surrounded by a ton of strangers and knowing only Len.

In Arkham, she'd known everybody. She'd had friends. She'd had company. She'd never been alone unless she wanted to be.

Now? It felt like she'd been dropped into an abyss, and Ouisie was reeling. Len, too, she could tell. It was damn lucky the Squad had been able to patrol together this week for the Bat. It had helped quell that queasy feeling in Ouisie's stomach that came from the ocean of anonymity that she'd been dropped into.

Len didn't need to say out loud to her that he was feeling it, too. She saw it in his eyes, even though people thought she didn't pay much attention to feelings and shit like that. It wasn't that she didn't notice; Ouisie just mostly didn't give a fuck.

But her squad had become her friends and then her family and to be suddenly untethered and split up? It was awful. Especially for her and Cold, because they were single. Everyone else had someone they were going home to.

Even Harley had gone and gotten married after she busted out with Red Hood. And Arthur, well, he'd decided to stay inside where it was cozy and safe and full of company, even though he wouldn't have theirs anymore.

But Ouisie and Len? They only had each other, and they were damn well going to stick together like glue. They had come home from seeing Floyd off, turned on Pawn Stars, made a frozen pizza and a bowl of popcorn, and promptly potatoed out on the couch to stuff their miserable feelings away.

Leonard handed Frost's soda to her as he made his way around the stacks of stuff piled everywhere in the room. He stepped over her legs which were propped up on the crate of ammunition serving as a coffee table and resettled himself beside her on the beat-up blue couch which looked, frankly, like Harley had pulled it out of a dumpster.

She'd assured them that it was clean, though, but after she had let them into the apartment last week, Frost and Len and Floyd had rooted around through Harley's supplies until they found a black light.

"What'd your lady say?" Snart asked Louise, leaning over her shoulder to see the text.

"Thanks for not taking me down last night. And for helping me out. You're really cool."

Leonard snorted.

"Girl's as awkward at texting as you are, Ouisie," he teased his friend. "I think she's a keeper."

Frost cackled.

"What should I say back?" she asked him.

"Give it a minute," Len cautioned. "Don't appear too eager."

"I ain't that eager," Louise snickered, "'cause if this chick don't work out, I got Vikki as back-up."

Len laughed, thinking back to Harley's ploy of using Mr. Freeze's supposed interest in Killer Frost as a cover story for his apparent kidnapping of the Wayne wards when the Suicide Squad had stormed Steph's school to deal with her bullies.

"Hey, I'm serious," Killer Frost said in her loud and abrasive voice, though, turning to face Snart. "Me and Vik been talkin' a little bit since our Oscar worthy scene for the cops."

"For real?" Len said, raising his brow in confusion. "I didn't think you liked dick."

"I don't dislike it," Frost explained, "if I like the man it's attached to. But most men suck."

"And well, too," Leonard sighed beatifically, making Louise sigh.

"That has not been my experience," she said sadly, shaking her head mournfully.

"No wonder you mostly date women," Snart said in horror.

"No shit," Louise agreed cheerfully. "Nobody eats pussy like a girl. But I have to say, I have been wondering how cold Vikki's tongue might be…" she said dreamily, her own tongue snaking out of her mouth to lick her lips.

Snart chortled.

"What?" Ouisie smirked playfully. "Ice, ice, baby," she chanted, making him laugh even harder.

"Well, you are uniquely suited for Vik in that sense, anyway," Snart said, since Killer Frost's body could tolerate extreme sub-zero temperatures. "Poor guy can't usually get any action."

"Are you thinking about getting with him for real though, longterm?" he said with some concern.

"Nah, we're just kinda flirting by text for now," Frost said. "Cause you're thinking what I'm thinking. Vik's in Arkham and I ain't intending to go back," she said grimly.

"I do like him for real, though," she said a little more wistfully. "He's got that sexy scientist thing going on, which you know I relate to," she said.

Snart snorted.

"That's an understatement. You both permanently froze your stupid asses."

"Hey!" Ouisie barked. "It was for science!"

"Suuure," Leonard drawled.

"Well, Vik's was anyway," Louise amended with a grin, because scientist Dr. Louise Lincoln had locked herself in a thermafrost chamber on purpose in order to gain the powers that her one-time mentor, Dr. Crystal Frost, had accidentally obtained in the same way.

But rather than for research or scientific breakthroughs, Ouisie's goal had been villainy, pure and simple.

"Viktor didn't freeze himself for science either!" Len contradicted. "He did it by accident, trying to save his wife. Being a dumbass doesn't count as science."

"Well, yeah, ok," Ouisie relented. "But freezing a dying lady until you can find the cure for her illness is sort of sciency, you gotta give me that," she playfully insisted.

"The looking for a cure part is sciency," Snart said. "The cryofreezing was sci-fi. I saw _The Empire Strikes Back_," he said, laughing.

Louise laughed, too.

"Ok, ok, you ain't wrong," she admitted. "Vik's a dumbass and I'm a super villain."

"There you go," Leonard said, nodding with approval.

"He's a good guy, though," Ouisie said, sounding actually compassionate for once in stark contrast to her usually callous attitude towards humanity. "I feel bad for how sad Vikki's been since Nora's cryochamber failed."

"Oof," Snart said, giving her a warning look. "Do not date anyone out of pity. That never ends well."

"Yeah, well, he's in Arkham," Louise sighed. "So I don't gotta worry too much about the temptation. Last thing I need is for him to let himself out to see me and I get caught with an escapee," she said and Len nodded seriously, still looking slightly worried for her.

"Anyway, I got this crossbow chick texting me now," Ouisie said with some excitement, reaching over to pat his arm. "It's been ten minutes. I won't look desperate anymore. Help me figure out what to say so I don't sound like a cardboard box."

"Honey, you always sound like a cardboard box," Leonard teased, getting a sharp smack to the back of the head.

"You're such a dick," Frost said affectionately.

"How does this sound…" she said, thinking out loud. "_Good job killing those mafia guys last night._"

Snart gave her a deeply pitying look.

"What?" Frost protested loudly. "That's a compliment."

"From a cardboard personality," he said, shaking his head.

"Well, how would you say it, then?" she pestered him.

Leonard thought for a minute.

"It was hot as hell watching you shoot your … _arrows _… into those guy's _asses _last night. How about shooting one into mine?"

"Dude," Louise said, rolling her eyes. "We're not gay men, stupid. Helloooo! Sapphic love!"

"You asked me how _I _would say it," Leonard smirked. "And I wouldn't be hitting on a woman, now would I?"

"You're such a shit," Ouisie complained, flicking a piece of popcorn at him.

"So are you," Leonard peacefully smiled back at her before grabbing a handful of kernels and throwing them at her.

"A fact which I ain't never denied," Frost said proudly, picking a piece off of her shirt and popping it into her mouth.

"Come on, now, Len. Help me out," she demanded. "This girl was hot and the cutest fuckin' dork you ever seen. You think I'm awkward, damn, you should have seen her in action."

"Yeah?" Snart smiled.

"I mean her shooting stuff wasn't awkward," Frost amended. "Girl is a damn badass with her bow and arrows. But when I ran across her taking those guys down and yelled 'who the fuck are you?' you know what she said?"

"What?" Captain Cold asked.

Frost tossed her head and batted her eyelashes at him.

"They call me…. _Huntress_," she said in a seductively sultry voice.

"Then she tripped over the dead body as she was coming to see me and almost face-planted on the floor!"

Louise cracked up, falling over sideways on the couch into Snart.

Leonard began giggling, too.

"That is so adorkable," he said.

"Right?" Ouisie said. "So what do I say to her?"

"Ask her out on a date," Len advised.

"To do what?" Frosty frowned.

"Sweetie," Len said, "you gotta be you if you like this girl. Do you want her falling for Leonard Snart and his date ideas and flirty texts, or for Louise Lincoln and her awkward but endearing cardboard box charm?"

"You think I'm endearing?" Louise awwed at him.

"Yes," Snart said. "It's really sweet how you scream shit at everyone and can't have a conversation in an indoor voice."

"You fuckin prick!" Louise yelled good-naturedly in said screech grabbing her pillow and smacking him hard with it, which prompted Leonard to yank his pillow up and hit Ouisie back with it.

She snatched it up and then the pillow fight was on as they began chasing each other around the room, throwing pillows and empty soda cans and anything else they could grab that hopefully wasn't breakable or explosive as they climbed on furniture and dodged around prepper sized tubs of rice and oatmeal and water, crates and crates of ammo and grenades and tactical equipment, and huge quantities of toilet paper.

When Len made it to the small kitchen and threw the dirty cookie sheet at her, Frost quickly threw up her hands and blocked it with a spray of ice.

"Cheating!" Snart yelled, diving for his cold gun, but Ouisie jumped down from her high and precarious perch atop four stacked up gun boxes and dropped to the couch. She grabbed the blanket, took a flying leap towards Leonard, and wrapped it over his head as she tackled him to the ground.

"Ha!" she crowed, scrambling over him to try to get to his gun first.

"No!" he yelled back pitifully, scrabbling after her with the blanket still on his head, groping for her ankles. "My gun!"

"My gun, now, bitch!" Frost cried, grabbing it and hoisting it to her shoulder. "Hey, how do you shoot this?" she frowned, fiddling with the controls and trigger.

"It's fingerprint ID'd," Leonard smirked, finally pulling the cover off of his head to laugh at her.

"You idiot," Louise said with affectionate disgust. "Why'd you care if I got it then?" she laughed.

"Because it's my preciousss," he rasped in a Gollum voice. "Oh, hold on," he said as his phone started ringing with "We Are the Champions."

"Hey Harls," Snart said, clicking speaker on. "I'm here at your place with Ouisie. What's up?"

"Hey yourselves," Harley said back. "Listen, I know our patrolling gig was done last night, but would you two be up for one more round? Batman's back in town but hubbs and I thought we'd cover for him tonight so he can have a date night."

"Awwww, that's so cute!" Frosty giggled. "Who does Batsy fuck?"

"Well, it ain't my place to say," Harley said. "Hang around Gotham long enough and you'll probably figure it out, though," she laughed mysteriously.

"So what do you guys say?" she said. "Are you in? For extra pay, of course. Me and Hood can do it ourselves if we gotta, but it would be nice to have a hand. Waylon and June got their own plans so it would just be the four of us."

"I'm in," Snart said, looking to Frost, who nodded at him.

"Me too, Harls," she said. "Do we get to meet your new man?"

"Sure do!" Harley said happily. "See ya tonight!"

"I need a man," Leonard sighed, laying down dramatically on the floor. "Even Batman has a man," he whined.

"We'll get ya one, honey," Killer Frost soothed, reaching out to pat his head. "Your pickup game is strong. No man will be able to resist ya."

"Text your girl," he told her, grinning.

"Ooo!" Ouisie exclaimed. "I know. We should all go to the club tomorrow! I can be your wingwoman. And dance with Huntress, too."

"Oh, we're gonna have to go shopping if we're going clubbing," Leonard said with interest, sitting up eagerly. "I don't have any nice outfits here."

"Me neither," Ouisie said, pulling her phone out to text.

"Hi, sexy Huntress," she said out loud in a singsong voice as she wrote her text. "Wanna come clubbing tomorrow with me and my friend so we can catch him a man? Bring your bow and arrow cuz he's got a pickup line that goes with it."

"You want her to bring her bow and arrow to a club?" Leonard said, looking at her. "That's not going to get past the bouncer."

"It will at the Iceberg Lounge," Frost said, poo-pooing his concern. "If she's with us. Oh! She texted back already," Frost beamed.

"No chill," Leonard sighed, shaking his head. "You two."

"She said, 'LOLOL I'd love to come clubbing. Where and when?'"

"Good job, Frosty!" Leonard exclaimed, giving her a high five. "You got a date!"

"Woohoo!" Ouisie yelled. "I got a date!"

"I don't think she's bringing the bow," Leonard observed. "I'm gonna need a new pickup line."

"Why do you say that?" Frost asked him, wrinkling her brow.

"The LOLOL," he said, giving her a look.

"Oh," Louise said, frowning. She started to text back. "I am serious about the bow and arrows," she read along out loud.

Her phone buzzed almost instantly.

"OMG you are too funny. I'm really glad you texted me back!" Ouisie read, looking puzzled.

"She likes you," Leonard beamed.

"But I wasn't joking," Frost grumped.

"So what?" Len said, pushing himself up off the floor. "That'll give you something to talk about tomorrow night when you're not dancing."

"I guess," Ouisie said doubtfully.

"It's hard to tell over text when someone is serious or not," Leonard said, patting her shoulder. "It'll be ok. I can tell. You're both dorks."

"Thanks," Ouisie said, rolling her eyes.

"Come on, girl," Snart said, reaching down for her hands to pull her up, too. "We gotta go shopping for some sexy duds. So you can be a sexy dork."

"Yeah? Then what are you gonna be?" Louise said.

"A sexy arrow," Leonard said with a wink.

* * *

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	38. Chapter 38

_**Chapter 38**_

Harley looked up from the living room where she and Bane and the Batkids were discussing the pros and cons of the just-finished week of Suicide Squad-assisted patrols (pros - crime rates had gone down; cons - the number of gunshot wounds coming into Gotham General ER had more than quadrupled for the first half of the week) when Bruce and Jason came through the doorway, Bruce's arm affectionately slung around Jason's neck while Jason's arm was wrapped around his father's waist - and Harley and Bane both got some tears in their eyes.

"I guess you two had a good talk, huh?" Harley said, taking in the peaceful aura surrounding father and son.

"Yeah," Jason said with a little smile right into his girl's eyes.

"One that was long overdue," Bruce sighed, giving Jason's neck a final squeeze and planting a kiss on his cheek before moving over to Bane, brushing his hand over his lover's cheek before giving him a sweet kiss on the lips as he sat next to him on the sofa, curling himself into Bane's side in a way that was starting to feel not only natural, but automatic.

And damn good.

Bane immediately reached his hand out to rub Bruce's back in massaging circles before sliding his arm down to hug his boyfriend's waist in a sensual caress as he pulled Bruce's hips a little closer into his own.

Harley let out a relieved breath when she saw how relaxed Jason looked. The nervous tension that she'd been holding in her shoulders since before breakfast finally seeped out of her muscles and she happily welcomed his deep kiss into her mouth, unabashedly wrapping her arms around his neck as he stood over her.

"Oh, Pops, Bane," Jason said from the loveseat once he'd seated himself and Harley had climbed into his lap, "me and Harley are gonna cover patrols for you tonight with a couple of the squad members," he said.

"So you can have a date night," Harley winked at the surprised couple, making their faces go soft with pleasure as they looked first at each other and then at their son and daughter-in-law.

"Thank you," Bruce said with some wonder in his voice at their thoughtfulness.

Because if he was going to properly fuck Bane for the first time, it would be nice for his partner to not be coming home exhausted from patrol before they got started.

"Yes, our thanks," Bane added, smiling at the couple warmly before giving Bruce a tenderly intimate look.

Tim and Steph smiled over at Harley and Jason, too, while Damian sat quietly in his seat, mentally documenting and filing everyone's reactions to his Baba and Harley's generosity for future reference.

"We'll need you kids on comms tonight," Harley said to the trio, making Tim beam at the added responsibility, not to mention the respect from Jason and Harley that the request entailed.

Steph grinned in delight as she high-fived first Tim and then Damian.

"The Batlings go solo once again!" she crowed, pumping her fist in the air. "We've been unbenched!"

"Only for solo comms," Bruce growled in correction, but his grouchy voice couldn't hide his fondness for his teenaged daughter despite his exasperation at her exuberance for unsupervised vigilante work.

Damian gave Harley and Jason a piercing look of great determination.

"We shall not fail you," he said very seriously.

"I know that you won't, habibi," Jason said, just as seriously, nodding gravely at him.

"Did you get ahold of somebody to help us out?" Jason asked Harley, who nodded, her brown pigtails bobbing and flapping into his face.

Which Jason did not appear to mind one bit.

"Cold and Frost are on board," Harley said. "Waylon and June got their own date night, though, which I kinda figured they would," she grinned. "Since it's Croc's first whole night off and all," she giggled.

"It'll be nice when we're older to have all these extra people on call for patrol," Steph said happily to Tim, leaning into his shoulder, "so we can schedule our own date nights, too."

Bruce's gut reaction to that statement was for his chest to seize up in anxious fear at the thought of expanding the pool of Batpatrollors on a permanent basis - but as he looked around the room at his mostly coupled-up family, he realized that maybe, just maybe, Batman didn't need to be quite so isolated an operation.

After all, hadn't he originally taken on Dick as Robin for that very reason, to have a partner? Because two were better than one when out in the field?

And hadn't life gotten even easier once Tim had begged Bruce to take Steph on as Batgirl, giving him the option for two sidekicks on their more difficult operations? As well as the ability to rotate out the school-aged children's night shifts, which meant fewer phone calls home about his kids sleeping in class.

And even though Damian still required hands-on supervision in the field (although of course the tiny boy disagreed strongly and vocally and frequently about that fact), being able to send Robin and Batgirl out on patrol together while Batman worked with Bat-Mite had always given Bruce peace of mind.

If his older two sidekicks came up against an unexpected rogue, they'd have each other for backup until he could get there; or in case he and Damian were the ones to get surprised, then Bruce could not only recall the two teens but have one rush Bat-Mite home.

(If Bat-Mite would cooperate with such a course of action, that was… Bruce had always been more than a little relieved that his careful scheduling of Bat-Mite's field work for nights with the lowest predicted risk variables had paid off up until he had passed the Bat mantle on to Bane. Because Bruce could only imagine a frustrated Robin or Batgirl trying to fight off not only a few rogues, but a squalling, combative Bat-Mite who Did Not Want To Go Home.)

But most of all, Bruce could not deny that this week with Harley at the helm and the Suicide Squad covering patrols had gone amazingly well.

Far more smoothly than he could have possibly imagined, despite the fact that having to listen in on the comms to her team's dysfunctional pseudo-cohesion had nearly given him a stress-induced ulcer, so much so that Alfred had taken to standing over him at night until he dutifully finished the daily tall glass of warm milk that his butler insisted he drink.

And when it came to Bane becoming Batman, the new Bat and his Robin had already begun to find their footing with each other before Bane's temporary absence for his revenge-driven roadtrip.

Given that Bane and Damian had already had such a close relationship before Bane came to Gotham, Bruce had no qualms about Bat-Mite's ability to work with Bane in the field, either.

And although Bruce couldn't deny that Steph's potential partnership with the new Batman had originally worried him a bit, since Bane had broken her ankle in their first scuffle, the two of them seemed to be slowly finding their way to camaraderie despite the fact that Steph couldn't be back in the field for a few more months until her ankle had healed and she had completed her physical therapy.

Most importantly of all, though, Bruce had felt completely at ease the first few nights that Bane had put on the cowl, knowing in his heart that Bane would keep Tim safe on the streets no matter what. Hell, Bruce had more confidence in Bane's ability to keep his kids safe at this point than he had in himself.

So… maybe it wouldn't be such a bad thing if members of the Batfamily, and even Batman himself, didn't have to each patrol every _single _night of the week going forward. After all, Bruce had to admit that the thought of having Bane to himself for a whole, uninterrupted night once a week was mighty tempting.

And of course Tim and Steph would want the same in their own relationship once they were out of school and free to patrol together every night instead of rotating shifts.

And if Harley and Jason would help out once in awhile, and wrangle her squad themselves - because the one thing that Bruce would put his foot down on was having anything to do with the Suicide Squad's fuckery…

Besides, Red Hood already wore the damn bat on his chest.

Bruce had been so angry at Jason's perceived mockery of him for the last two years, feeling the sting of Red Hood's symbol twice as sharply once he'd finally figured out who was actually wearing it.

Oh, how Bruce had seethed, furious that this shell of his dead son would dare to show his resurrected or cloned face in Gotham, not only ignoring the Bats but boldly stealing their symbol and parading it around town as he killed by the dozens, flaunting Bruce's most sacred rule.

But now?

Well, it did make life easier that Gotham already had a clue that Red Hood and the Bats were connected. And Bruce had just gifted Harley herself with a battified top to wear. So…

"It will be nice to have more people to call on going forward," Bruce said with a conviction that was only a little bit nerve-wracking to muster up as he met first Harley and then Jason's eyes.

Jason gave him a knowing look, understanding better than any of the others what it had taken for Bruce to say that.

And Bruce found himself so fucking happy that his son was back, sitting across from him to give him that look again - the sly, mischievous look that little Jason used to get on his face in public when Brucie would say something so blatantly untrue that it was laughable, or at home when Bruce would have to begrudgingly apologize to Alfred over something or other and Jason knew how badly Bruce was kicking up his heels over it on the inside.

Jason was always a perceptive one and wasn't afraid to flaunt it.

And now, Jason was home. And Bruce wasn't perfect, he would never be - but he thought that he might be close to whole again, all of his broken pieces settling themselves down into a new pattern.

If only Jason and Dick could finally get along.

"Does your brother know you're home?" Bruce asked Jason with a smile.

Which immediately faltered at the dark look that crossed Jason's face.

Bruce knew that Dick had issues with Jason - hell, he'd told his oldest son to grow up and work it out, calling him out on his jealousy and entitled sense of superior suffering - but something in the planes of Jason's face sparked a deep dread in Bruce's gut.

Something was more than wrong with his two oldest children.

Bruce found himself swallowing anxiously as he waited for Jason's reply.

It was Harley who answered, though.

"Babs asked me to let her know when you were home," she said gently, looking at Jason with soft understanding in her eyes. "I can send her a text?" she asked and Jason hesitated for the barest second, but nodded.

Grimly avoiding his father's question.

And his eyes.

Bruce gave Bane a worried look, which Bane met with a sad but compassionate one that hinted at additional insight, although he wisely kept it to himself for the time being.

Tim and Steph were looking at each other with their silent mindmeld, alternating glances between Harley and Jason and Bruce and Bane as their eyes spoke for them, giving away their concern over the sudden tension in the room.

Damian had initially frowned at Jason's reaction to Bruce's simple question, but then he had pulled his phone out and was blithely tapping away, seemingly oblivious to the rest of the family's drama.

Harley's phone buzzed and she showed the text to her husband.

"Babs wants to come over," Jason said in a tightly wound voice to no one in particular.

"To talk to me," he added. "Without Dick," he said as an afterthought.

"We'd all be happy to see her if she wants to stay for the afternoon and dinner afterwards," Bruce said kindly.

"I'll let her know," Harley said quietly, meeting her father-in-law's eyes.

"I need to take a walk," Jason mumbled, patting his wife's hips to prompt her to stand so he could get up.

"You'll let me know when she gets here?" he asked Harley, who nodded.

"Ok. Love you," Jason said, giving her a quick kiss.

"Love you, too," Harley said back as he turned and strode out of the room.

The silence in the living room felt as fragile as one of Alfred's knives and each remaining member of the Batfamily seemed just as reluctant to break it.

Finally, Harley spoke.

"Don't you kids have some training to do?" she said. "Why don't you go get started on that?"

"So the grown-ups can talk?" Steph smirked at her.

"Yes," Harley grinned, putting a hand on her hip and copping a pose.

"Ok, ok," Tim said, getting to his feet before helping Steph up and handing her the crutches. "Come on, Damian," he said. "Stop playing on your phone."

"Assassins do not play," Damian muttered under his breath, but he stood and put his phone away to follow them down to the gym.

"We'll be down in a little bit," Bruce said, getting smiles back from Tim and Steph and a sharp nod of acknowledgement from Damian before they traipsed out of the room.

Harley let out a long, tired sigh before moving to sit in a closer armchair to Bane and Bruce.

"You don't really know what all Dick did to Jay, do you," she said to Bruce, phrasing it more as a statement than a question.

"I'm… beginning to think I don't?" Bruce said hesitantly. "I know that he thought he had it worse than Jason," Bruce said slowly, "with his parents being murdered instead of 'just' dying."

"And I know that Dick thought that Jason was too reckless, too violent, and wouldn't listen to me," Bruce said. "They always seemed to rub each other the wrong way, that much was obvious."

"Yeah, you don't know shit," Harley sighed, but not in judgment.

"Dick rubbed Jay the wrong way by mocking his trauma," Harley said with a steely glint in her eye. "Telling him to get over it, stop crying, his life wasn't bad at all."

"What?" Bruce breathed in, his eyes going wide in horror.

"Look, the kid was triggered and acting out his own trauma," Harley said. "Which I really ain't supposed to be analyzing and getting into with family members, ethically speaking," Harley muttered.

"But the point is, bein' traumatized is a reason, but it ain't an excuse for Dick bein' an absolute asshole to Jay. Rubbing in Jay's face how much worse his own situation supposedly was. Being a vicious, cruel, sonofabitch to my grieving husband who was going through the worst time of his life and coming from worse abuse than Dick could possibly imagine."

"Jason just told me about that," Bruce murmured, "but I had always suspected," he said with tears in his eyes.

"He told me as well," Bane said sadly.

"And he told me this morning that it was ok to talk to you about the stuff with Dick," Harley said. "I wouldn't be otherwise. And maybe Dick has grown up some, maybe not," she said. "Cause he sure as hell hasn't fessed up to you, has he?" she said to Bruce, who mutely shook his head, feeling numb with Harley's revelations.

"I suspect Babs wormed it out of him," Harley said, "cause she could see how pissed I was at her man when they were over here last week. And maybe that's why she wants to talk to Jay alone, first, to give him a heads up about what to expect from Dick."

"But if you're hoping for happy sappy hugs and everything to be A-OK right after Dick and Jay talk?" Harley said to Bruce. "I'd adjust your expectations."

Bruce sat quietly for a minute, looking down at the floor, as Bane's worried hand stroked his back.

"I really was an awful father," Bruce said eventually, with massive guilt.

"No one's arguin' otherwise, Brucie," Harley said dryly, making him chuckle.

"Trust Harley Hood to put a smile on my face no matter how down on myself I am," Bruce said affectionately before sobering again.

"I had no idea that any of that was happening between my kids, Harley," he said miserably. "I'm a detective. Don't argue with me!" he said, shaking a finger at her as she started to open her mouth.

"Even Bane knows I'm a detective," Bruce defended himself.

"Indeed," Bane smiled. "The World's Greatest Detective."

"See?" Bruce said to Harley's scoffing disbelief. "Detective," he said firmly. "So how did I miss this?" he asked her more softly, his voice going vulnerable and despairing as he looked at Bane with misery in his eyes, seeking comfort.

Harley sighed.

"Kids are sneaky, Bruce," she said. "And parents are particularly blind to their own kids' manipulations, more often than not."

"Jason never said anything to me," Bruce muttered. "But he never said anything about a lot of things," he said regretfully.

"You'd just adopted him," Harley pointed out. "Dick had been your kid for much longer. The new kid couldn't risk rocking the boat, Bruce, and getting put out of the family."

She saw in Bruce's face that he wanted to protest, that he would never have kicked Jason out, but Harley felt a little bit of pride when Bruce swallowed his words and instead said, "I should have asked for more help. And paid more attention."

"Yes," Harley said honestly. "And I should've insisted that all my sessions with Mistah J be videotaped for my own safety, so that me and Dr. Arkham could review them afterwards and make sure Jokes wasn't doing exactly what he did to me."

"But I didn't want to rock the boat, either," Harley said. "I asked upfront about the videos before startin' to work with Joker and Arkham said no, it would violate patient privacy, and would be too easy to be stolen and uploaded onto the internet, blah blah blah," she muttered.

"Arkham said he'd debrief me after each session and that I'd be fine. I should've fought for myself, Bruce," Harley said with deep regret. "But I can't go back and change that, and neither can you with your parenting."

"And Dick can't undo what he's done," Harley said. "What he's willing to do differently going forward - I guess we'll have to wait and see."

Bruce couldn't argue with that, but he found his fingers itching to call his eldest and have some words.

"Bruce," Bane soothed him gently. "Let them talk between themselves first," he counseled. "There will be plenty of opportunities to step in afterwards, if that is what is needed."

"How did you know I wanted to call Dick?" Bruce said to him in wonder as Harley caught Bane's eye and smiled with her friend.

"Because I know you, mi cielo," Bane said to him, reaching a hand up to gently cup his boyfriend's face. "Wherever there is injustice in the world, Batman cannot help but rush in to fix it. It is part of what makes you beautiful," Bane said, and Bruce actually blushed.

"I'm not -" he started to say.

"Hush," Bane said, placing a finger over Bruce's lips. "The Dark Knight has more light than he could ever know."

"I'm gonna leave you two alone," Harley said with a tease in her voice as Bruce's eyes got all wet and tender, gazing into Bane's.

The two men barely glanced at her as she bounced out of the room with a giggle and a grin.

"You think too highly of me," Bruce mumbled against Bane's fingertip, which was still caressing his lips.

"Never," said Bane fondly, with love in his eyes. "Do you deny that it breaks your heart to hear of the broken road that your eldest has chosen for himself? And are you not barely able to restrain yourself from attempting to force him onto the higher path?"

"Mm," Bruce murmured. "I might need you to restrain me," he said coquettishly to his partner. "I'm feeling rather weak."

Bane chuckled deep in his belly.

"Well, I do not suppose the children will mind if we delay our arrival to the gym just a little bit," Bane said. "So that I can hold you back from impulsivity."

His eyes twinkled as he wrapped his arms securely around Bruce, snuggling the distraught father to his chest.

"They don't need us to supervise them," Bruce said into Bane's neck as he laid his head down on his shoulder and got comfortable. "They like doing things on their own."

"Indeed," Bane agreed in a rumble. "We are doing them a favor."

"Yes," said Bruce. "Exactly."

He sighed as Bane began experimentally placing little kisses onto his forehead.

"I don't want my family to be so broken anymore," Bruce said morosely.

"I know, mi cielo," Bane soothed him. "Perhaps it will not remain so. Look at how much healing has already taken place where you thought none was possible."

"What do I do?" Bruce asked him. "What do the pillows tell you?"

Bane chuckled lightly as he squeezed Bruce even closer.

"I suppose," Bane said, "they tell me to pray."

"Pray," Bruce repeated disbelievingly.

"It cannot hurt," Bane shrugged.

"Will it help?" Bruce asked him, though.

"Will it help young Jason and his brother Dick? I do not know," Bane said thoughtfully. "But will it help you find peace for your own soul? My experience tells me yes," Bane said.

"Your experience with the pillows far exceeds my own, you know," Bruce grumbled back at him. "Prayer will probably be the same."

"Perhaps," Bane said peacefully. "But when I am distressed, Bruce, as I must confess that I am most days, over many things, I turn to my pillows and to prayer. And in doing so, I do not turn to the Venom or to violence."

"Will it help you? I do not know, mi amor. But for myself, it helps me."

"Ok," Bruce sighed against him. "Well, keep holding me back from the phone," he mumbled as he closed his eyes against Bane's chest. "Because at least I know that _you_ help me."

Bruce didn't see the smile that lit up Bane's face as he cuddled the smaller man in his arms, but he felt it, and it warmed him all the way through to his aching heart.

* * *

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	39. Chapter 39

_**Chapter 39**_

Jason swallowed hard when his phone buzzed with Harley's text.

"She's here."

He quickly tapped his response out before sliding his phone back into his pocket and leaning forward on his chair in the solarium to hold his head in his hands.

Jason had always liked hiding out in the glass paneled room as a kid; the warm, humid air never bothered him, growing up as he did in a Crime Alley apartment that lacked air conditioning, and he liked that he could lose himself amongst the tall, tropical plants almost as well as if he was in the jungle.

He'd hide for hours, curled up on an ornate cast iron lounge chair, reading to the soothing sounds of the tiny fountain in the middle of the octagonal room and breathing in the wondrous scents of soil and leaves and flowers that were so foreign to his inner city, street-bred nose.

Between the dense foliage and his denser books, Jason had always been able to forget the pains of his new life for at least a little while - his mom's irreversible absence; Dick's cruelty; and, finally, worst of all, the ongoing terror of patrols with Bruce.

The panic attacks that sometimes chased sleep away for hours after a rough night of battling Riddler or Two-Face or the Penguin or - God forbid, the Joker - never managed to catch up with Jason when the sunlight was streaming into his little sanctuary.

So he'd figured that his favorite room in the manor was the best place to meet Babs anew.

Because Jason wasn't expecting a showdown or a confrontation with Barbie. She'd loved him like a little brother back when they were kids. Well, like a little brother that she'd actually liked and wanted around, which was vastly different from what Dick's attitude towards him had been.

Hell, seeing her again was probably going to be harder on Babs, who Jason knew was carrying a load of guilt from letting Bruce lock him up in Arkham without so much as a cursory glance from the police commissioner.

Jason had been disappointed, but not surprised, when Babs hadn't had the courage to meet him face to face after Bruce had finally gotten his hands on the slippery Red Hood. Not only disappointed because he might have been able to talk his way free - but Jason wouldn't have minded seeing the only one out of the four people in the universe who knew he was alive that he didn't hate.

"Jason?"

Barbara's voice slipped through the trees, tentative but clear; more mature than he'd remembered. Well, that made sense, they'd both grown up since then, hadn't they? Whereas Bruce and Alfred, relatively speaking, hadn't changed that much from Jason's pre-death days.

"Back here," he answered her, pushing himself up from his chair and wandering through the lush overgrowth to meet her.

He saw her first, still in her police uniform, having come straight from work, apparently, as soon as getting Harley's text that Jason was home.

Well, that was kind of nice, Jason thought. Said something about how badly she wanted to reconnect.

"Hey, Barbie," he said, stepping out onto the main stone-laid path in front of her.

"Jason," she gasped, putting both hands up to her mouth as she stared at him, eyes rapidly filling with tears as she took in who he'd become since their lifetime-ago childhood.

Jason supposed that he'd changed more than she had; he'd been a scrawny, underfed kid when Bruce had first adopted him, although he'd started to bulk up with Alfred's food and Bruce's training regimen.

But he hadn't hit his growth spurt until after the pit, and the baby-faced young teen he'd once been was nowhere to be found in the hard planes of the man underneath the Red Hood, who'd killed and murdered and maimed under Talia's mentorship in ways that Bruce and the Batfamily, except for Damian, couldn't possibly imagine, even knowing his escapades as the Hood.

It had to be a shock.

Babs, though, hadn't changed so very much. More filled out, he guessed, hips wise, maybe? She'd been muscular as Batgirl but hadn't looked any more lethal than the average cheerleader or volleyball player at Gotham High.

But she looked more solid, now, if not overtly different. Her eyes were sadder, though, with a deep river of pain that ran far deeper than the tears from their reunion.

"Look at you," she was breathing out, shaking her head in wonder. "You're so tall and grown up and _alive_…"

Her voice broke off into sobs and Jason gave a very Bat-like but sympathetic grunt as he moved forward.

"Come here," he said, reaching forward.

Babs sniffed out a wan smile and let herself be gathered up in a tight hug, which she returned with bone-crushing strength as she continued to cry.

"I'm so sorry," she mumbled against Jason's shoulder.

"I know," he soothed her.

"I should have seen you," she got out in-between sobs.

"But I couldn't, Jase," she cried. "It would have hurt too much if it wasn't you."

"I know," he repeated, rocking her a little bit. "It's ok."

"Not ok," she protested, trying to gulp down some air and stop her tears.

"Barbie, I had a list of people that I hated when I came back, and your name wasn't anywhere on it," Jason said to her comfortingly. "Still isn't," he added fondly.

"Your dad's wasn't either," he said with more emotion, hugging Babs a little tighter and starting to sniff now himself as the woman groaned in sorrow, more for Jason than for herself, resigned as she was to the perpetuity of that particular wound.

"He would have talked to you," she said, swallowing against Jason's shoulder. "He would have been that brave."

"Well, we can't all be Jim Gordon," Jason said with a sad smile, stepping back to squeeze the tops of Barbara's arms in comfort.

"And he wasn't my sister," Jason added.

Babs' eyes lit up.

"It would have been easier for him to see me as a zombie than it would have been for you," Jason told her, rubbing her arm one last time.

"Still so sweet," Babs murmured as she started to wipe her eyes. "You were always such a sweet kid, Jase," she said to him.

"Dick didn't think so," Jason said pointedly.

"I know," Barbara sighed grimly. "Well, I didn't know. But I do, now," she said.

"Can we go sit down to talk?" she asked and Jason nodded, leading her to the small seating area in the back of the solarium.

"I am so sorry -" she started to say once they had gotten comfortable but Jason held his hand up and cut her off.

"Do _not _apologize for him," he said sharply. "It's not your place and it wasn't your fault."

"I wish I'd known, though," Babs said in frustration.

"You couldn't have," Jason said flatly. "Dick was nothing if not a performer."

He frowned at her.

"I heard he's been treating you like shit," he growled with an awful lot of Red Hood in his voice.

Barbara's head snapped up, startled.

"Who said that? Harley?" she asked and Jason nodded.

Babs chewed her lip.

"She may have over-inferred," she said. "He doesn't hit me or anything," she said.

Jason snorted derisively.

"High bar, Babs."

She sighed.

"Look, Jase, it's complicated. People are complicated. Relationships are complicated."

Jason didn't say anything, but he thought to himself that his relationship with Harley was significantly less complicated than Barbara's was with Dick, and the same could be said for Bruce and Bane's.

Although, ok, well, Pops was gonna have a rockier road with Bane than he had with Harley, but that was because Pops was an idiot. Bane was pretty good at keeping him afloat, though, but honestly, Bane was so new to romance, too, that him and Bruce struck Jason as two toddlers waddling off hand in hand down the yellow brick road, hoping for the best.

But they'd figure it out. Jason wasn't concerned about them. Dorothy and her sidekicks made it through all right and they were at least as hopeless as Pops and Bane, plus they had a Wicked Witch at their throats.

Babs and Dick, though?

"Emotional abuse is a thing," Jason said to her, drawing his eyebrows in together.

Her eyelids faltered down to the ground for a long minute.

"The only time he really blew up at me was right after Bane came to town, when he wanted me to check on Bruce for him and I wouldn't," Babs said quietly.

"And yeah, he got pretty nasty that morning, but Dick's pretty much incapable of handling difficult emotions," she said. "Usually he'd run instead of fighting."

"Run where?" Jason said.

"To Bludhaven," Babs said. "He keeps his own apartment there."

"As long as you two have been together?" Jason said in shock, his jaw dropping a little bit. "You still have separate apartments?"

"Well, if he's working late on the force or something, it made sense at first," Babs said, blushing a little bit and not quite meeting his eyes.

"Uh huh," Jason said sarcastically. "What about after 'at first'?" he asked her.

She glanced up at him bashfully, turning a little deeper red.

"Well… you know…" she said, but no, Jason did not know.

He could not even imagine, in fact, anyone in their right minds not living full-time with Babs when they had the privilege of dating her.

"Anytime we'd start to have a fight, Dick would lose his shit. And he'd freak out and say he couldn't handle it and he needed some space and he'd go crash at his place."

Jason was giving her a very skeptical look but Babs bravely soldiered on.

"You'd just died, Jase," she said, her voice catching a little bit. "I thought it was grief making him act like that. And that the best thing to do would be to give him what he asked for."

"I thought… he was being mature, maybe, to not yell at me and to take a time-out. That's a couples' thing, right?" she asked him pleadingly. "Taking a time out to cool down when you're having an argument?"

"For twenty minutes," Jason said, blinking at her. "Not in another zip code. For, what, a whole day?"

"Mfghtlay," Babs mumbled, causing Jason to lean forward.

"What was that?" he asked her gently.

Because he did not want to yell at Babs or blame her for her choices, but God. He loved her like family and seeing what she'd let happen to herself hurt.

"More than a day," she whispered.

"How long?" Jason said with even more compassion in his tone, because Babs seemed like she might break with embarrassment and that was the last thing he wanted.

"Several days, usually," she said softly. "A week, later on. Or a few weeks, after awhile."

Jason sat back in his chair, staring at her. The once bold, brilliant, smilingly confident Barbara Gordon was sitting here telling him that her longtime boyfriend used to up and leave her for weeks at a time?

"And you were ok with that?" Jason said, working really hard to keep his voice from sounding accusatory.

"No," Babs sighed, looking down. "I wasn't. Not after awhile. Not when it got to be so long at one time. Because at first, I'd always want to come back to the argument when he got home, so we could work it out, you know?"

"But Dick would get so upset, and say he'd just come home and could we please not do this right then, and then… it was never a good time to get back to it, and he'd go out of his way to be all sweet and nice once he was back - he was never mean, though, Jason, except for this last bad fight," she quickly reassured him again.

"He really loves me. He always has. He just has trouble with grief, and Bruce, and handling his feelings, and things got harder for him after you died."

"Did it never occur to him - or you - for him to try counseling?" Jason asked her slowly. "Therapy works wonders for exactly those types of problems."

"Well, no, we never really -" Babs said, hesitating. "I mean, we loved each other. And we got along most of the time. Things didn't seem that bad."

Jason wished he had Harley there beside him just to share an incredulous look with, because holy fuck, Babs Gordon. So fuckin' clueless.

"Plus, you know," she was continuing to say, "Dick wouldn't have been able to talk about being Nightwing or Robin -"

"Neither of which were the problem in your marriage," Jason said.

"We're not married," Babs said, and it was the first time in their conversation that Jason saw a hint of the feisty Batgirl she'd once been.

"I wouldn't marry him when he kept running out like that," she said. "Last thing I needed was to be the laughing stock at work if he ran and filed for divorce instead of running to Bludhaven. And then changed his mind and came crawling back. Only to do it again."

Jason took a deep breath and let it out slowly.

"You deserve better," he said to Babs. "And I'm not just saying that because I hate Dick."

"I love him," Babs said simply, meeting his eyes. "For better or for worse, Jason."

"Why?" Jason asked her in frustration. "Because he's the only guy you've ever fucked?"

Babs gasped and jumped back in her chair.

"You fucking asshole!" she said, and there was the redheaded Batgirl with the spitfire mouth that he'd once known and loved.

Jason couldn't help but grin and giggle a little bit to see it, which made Babs huff and roll her eyes, but she stopped giving him her death glare.

"I love Dick," she said very deliberately as she leaned forward in her chair, piercing Jason with her gaze, "because he and I shared something as Batgirl and Robin that no one else in this world could possibly understand."

"He had my back in ways that nobody else ever has. And not just in the masks. He was the only person who ever got what it was like for me to not have a mom and he took care of me, Jason."

"He made sure that I felt like Wayne Manor was my second home so I was never sad or lonely when my dad was working late, which was all the time. He went shopping with me for my prom dress," she said, her voice starting to crack, "because all the other girls had their moms to go with them and he said he didn't want me to miss out on having the person who loved me the most in the world share that experience with me."

She wiped some tears and Jason had to swallow, because, well, maybe that was a kinder side of Dick than he'd ever known existed.

"He supported me the whole way through the Police Academy," she said, "even though he was still finishing high school. He helped me study and train and pass my tests and he told me how to handle the asshole male officers who were giving me hell and even though he got the shit teased out of him for being in high school - and I got teased, too - he started coming around the precinct and charming the shit out of everybody, like he does -"

" - like he does," Jason murmured grimly -

" - until nobody was giving me anymore crap because they got so used to liking him that they liked me as an extension of him, and stopped caring that my dad was the commissioner and I was a girl cop and a junior baby officer."

"And he lost it when you died, Jason," Babs said, wiping her nose on her hand when she realized that she didn't have a tissue and didn't want to stain her uniform.

Jason cheerfully grinned and held his long-sleeve up to her nose, which she scrunched up for a second before gleefully and thoroughly cleaning it on his shirt.

"So yeah," Babs said when she finished leaving a large snot stain on his once sort of clean t-shirt.

"I cut him some slack, Jase. And Bruce had fired him, you know, back before he made you Robin. And that ate Dick up. He felt so betrayed."

"Not my fault!" Jason yelped, raising his hands up.

"I know," Babs said. "I'm just saying, he was my man and he was going through a lot. So, no. I wasn't about to break up with him because he was struggling. He's had a shitty life, and I know you have, too - I'm not saying that - I'm just saying, Dick's not always a dick."

"There it is," Jason chuckled under his breath with a sigh.

"Honey, the way he supported me when my dad was dying - him and Bruce both," Babs said. "And how the two of them managed to keep it the fuck together to help me win the commissioner election."

Which Jason had absolutely nothing to say about. Nope. Babs had won that election fair and square, yep. She sure had. Go Babs.

"I know he's a mess," Babs said, reaching out to squeeze Jason's hand. "I know it's not right. But he is a good person, too, Jason," she said. "People can be both."

Jason let out a long, heartfelt sigh.

"Well," he said, pinning Babs down with his stare. "Dickhead wasn't a good person to me."

"He told me," Babs said quietly, lifting a hand up to rub her head. "And Jason, I can't even imagine what he put you through. And I _am _sorry that I didn't know, you have to let me say it. I would never have let you suffer like that."

"That much, I know," Jason said honestly. "You were always a good person, Barbie. Through and through. A little codependent, I'm starting to realize, though," he added with a wink, making her laugh and pout.

"So I'm not perfect," she said, putting her hands on her hips. "But me and Dick are starting to do better now," she said. "He had a really good talk with Bruce and they cleared about a decade of decaying emotions away and Dick's working on not running away from me anymore. Or from conflicts."

"Yeah?" Jason said. "And what about his conflict with me?" Jason said a little aggressively

"Does Dickie think he can fix all his shit with a hug and an apology? I ain't Bruce," he said, his frown getting fiercer, "and that ratbastard really fucked me up."

"What _would _fix it?" Babs asked him quietly. "How do you fix something like that, Jason?"

"I don't know," Jason muttered, deflating and leaning back in his chair.

He ran tired hands through his hair.

"I honestly don't know," he said. "Is he even sorry? Or is he just sorry that he got found out?"

Babs hesitated.

"Uh huh," Jason said, lacing his fingers behind his head and stretching his legs out in front of him. "What I thought."

"He is sorry," Babs said.

"But," she shifted uncomfortably in her seat, "I know he still has some weird feelings towards you and I don't get why. I don't even know if _he _knows why. He really took in what me and Bruce said to him, but… it's like there's something in his gut that he can't get over. Despite knowing it's wrong."

"Trauma," Jason mumbled, looking up at the overcast sky through the glass ceiling.

"What?" Babs said, giving him a confused look.

"Harley said he hated me because of his trauma," Jason said, lowering his eyes back down to hers. "My existence puts him into flashback, I guess," Jason sighed, scrubbing his face with his hands.

"Something he might have realized had he ever gotten therapy," he growled, meeting Barbara's eyes once again.

"Oh," she said, completely surprised. "Well - that would be why he still feels now how he does? Even though he doesn't want to?"

"Probably," Jason muttered.

"Do you think -" Babs hesitated.

"No," Jason said.

She raised an eyebrow at him.

"Harley can't therapize family members," Jason said. "It's a huge ethical violation."

"Oh," Babs said, looking a little crestfallen.

"He could see someone else," Jason pointed out. "To work out his lingering feelings towards his dead brother."

He gave her a sardonic grin.

"That's true," Babs said slowly. "Can I tell him what you said? About the trauma? Before he talks to you, I mean? I feel like it would help."

"Whatever," Jason sighed, feeling his stomach begin to knot up at the idea of facing the Dickhead again.

"Hey," Babs said gently, reaching forward to grasp his hands in hers. "He won't be mean to you anymore, Jase. I promise."

"Not really your promise to give, is it, Barbie?" Jason asked her.

"No," she said. "But I promised Dick that I would kick his ass from here to Coastal City if he was even the slightest bit mean to you when you talk. So rat him out, if needed," she nodded firmly. "I'm counting on you."

"Where's my payment, Commish?" Jason teased her.

"We typically offer amnesty, not payments, to snitches," Babs said dryly. "Paying off sources tends to get cases thrown out of court."

"Unless you pay off the judges, too," Jason said calmly.

"No corruption," Babs said with conviction. "Not on my watch."

"Mmkay," Jason said, thinking of just how many judges and cops were currently in his wife's pocket.

Not that they did anything for Harley except roll out what she decided were appropriate measures of justice. Circumventing the law and properly procured evidence whenever necessary, of course.

"Your dad would be proud," he said to Babs, though.

She gave him a genuinely warm smile.

"Yeah," she said. "I hope so."

"Definitely," Jason assured her.

"He'd be proud of you, too," Babs said back to him.

"For what?" Jason scoffed. "Red Hood? I don't think so, Babs," he said.

"For making up with Bruce and Alfred," Babs said with softly shining eyes. "He loved you, Jason. He would have hated more than anything to see you lose your family."

Dammit, Jason's throat was getting thick. No good.

"And he'd have been really happy to see you married, too," Babs said.

"Even to Harley?" Jason asked her with a half-smile, forcing his voice to work properly.

"To anyone that made you so happy," Babs said, sweetly evading the exact answer. "And he'd have been happy for Harley that the Joker's hold on her got broken," Babs said. "He always pitied her."

Jason smiled.

"Well, the last person anyone needs to be pitying these days is Harley Todd."

"So I've heard," Barbara said with a warmer grin.

"And witnessed," she added more playfully with a mischievous smirk.

"No corruption on your watch, huh, Commish?" Jason laughed at her.

"Hey! Dealing with my little sister's bullies does not count as police commissioner corruption," Barbara said.

"Oh, yeah?" Jason teased.

"Yeah!" Babs said proudly. "It was justice."

And Jason had to giggle, because no, he and Harley still wouldn't ever be telling Babs about the rigged election or payrolled judges and cops, but… maybe Babs had just enough Batgirl left inside of her that it didn't matter.

* * *

Thanks for reading!

Fanfiction writers are thirsty vampires and comments are our lifeblood. 😁  
(But if you are mean, we will cut a bitch. Cuz we are vampires rawr )

I post updates weekly. Make sure to subscribe if you want to be notified when the new chapter posts.

Please check out my other Batman fics - tons of rarepairs (did someone say addict? Yes. Yes I am.) but I do have the occasional classic ship mixed in.

Also, I've got a Justice League: Animated Series longfic in the works that updates weekly - "A Light in the Dark." Is it full of rarepairs? Hell yeah it is!

You can follow me on tumblr as River9Noble. Come say hi!


	40. Chapter 40

_A/N - Trigger warnings - Mentions of childhood sexual abuse. Some specific acts and after-effects are referenced in relation to present day triggers, however, the abusive incidents are not described graphically. A summary of the chapter is in the end notes for anyone who feels the need to skip reading this chapter. The closing scene that occurs after the printed line break is not abuse-related and is safe to read. _

_**Chapter 40**_

Bruce and Bane had been snuggling comfortably on the couch in the living room for several minutes before Bruce lifted his head off of Bane's chest and turned to him to say, "If we can return to a certain topic of discussion from last night?"

Bane felt his stomach clench with a bit of dread. He knew that he and Bruce needed to discuss his childhood abuse before having sex tonight, and right now was probably the best time so that Bane would have some time to reorient himself and shelve the memories before tonight's amorous activities, but nonetheless, his heart did not want to revisit the past.

He held back his sigh, however. It was a conversation that needed to be had.

"Yes, mi cielo?" Bane said gently as Bruce shifted out from under his arm, leaning against it and holding his hand instead, so that he could look up at Bane while they talked.

"I'm dying to know what Harley really did at Steph's school," Bruce said with a grin. "Please tell me?" he begged his boyfriend.

"Oh," Bane said with a little chuckle. "That was not the conversation I was preparing myself for… but yes, let us begin with the school story before moving on to heavier topics," he said.

Bruce's eye began to sparkle with eager anticipation.

"Although," Bane said slowly, pausing. "Perhaps I must in fact begin with a topic of greater weight."

"What is it?" Bruce asked him, immediately serious and concerned.

Bane did sigh this time.

"Bruce…" Bane began hesitantly. "I know that you would never intentionally cause me distress..."

Bruce gave him a look.

"Pretty sure yelling at you over the phone while you were gone was me doing just that, sweetheart," he said dryly.

Bane laughed.

"I must concede the point," he said. "I shall rephrase. My Bruce would never intentionally cause me distress unless he was furious with me."

"That's better," Bruce said contentedly, rubbing his cheek against Bane's arm. "Continue," he said.

Bane chewed his lip.

"Last night, when you wished to uncover the mystery of Harley's activities at Stephanie's school, you became rather… flirtatious," Bane said, hesitating again as if unsure of how to proceed, but Bruce's Batbrain had already made the connections.

"Oh, shit," Bruce whispered in horror. "Baby, I'm so sorry," he said, squeezing Bane's hand tighter and reaching for his face with his free hand before faltering, suddenly fearful of causing his boyfriend distress.

Bane eased his worries by reaching his free hand out to take Bruce's and kissing the palm of it.

"It is all right," Bane said uncomfortably. "You did not mean anything by it, but…"

"But I should have fucking thought," Bruce growled in frustration. "God, baby, I will never do that again," Bruce promised him as he tried to swallow down the tightness in his throat.

"I am so fucking sorry," Bruce said again. "Of course that would trigger you," he said in dismay.

Bane squeezed both of Bruce's hands tightly in his own.

"It made me uneasy," Bane said, "but it did not trigger me into flashback," he said. "I knew that you were only teasing and not truly using sex as a manipulation," he said. "In the future, however, yes. I would prefer that you refrain even from teasing," Bane said.

"I will," Bruce swore to him. "I will be so much more careful, love. About everything."

"Thank you," Bane murmured with a sigh of relief. "It is difficult for me to discuss these things, although I know that I must."

"Do you want to go ahead and talk about the rest now to get it out of the way?" Bruce asked him gently. "Since we're already in the territory? Then you can tell me about Steph's school to lighten the mood afterwards."

Bane smiled at him appreciatively.

"A wise plan of action, mi amor."

He thought pensively for a minute while Bruce sat patiently, letting him collect his thoughts. Finally, Bane took a deep breath.

"I believe that it would be far too distressing for me to discuss the intimate details of the abuse," he said, "but I will speak about what relates to us in the bedroom?" he asked Bruce cautiously. "And perhaps in the future, if I ever feel the need to share more, we might revisit the topic?"

"Of course," Bruce said immediately. "Whatever you want to share or hold back is totally fine, baby. And anytime you want to talk about it, I am always here to listen. Ok?" Bruce asked him softly, reaching up this time to cup Bane's face, who nodded into Bruce's hand before turning his lips to kiss it gratefully.

"I love you so much," Bruce said to Bane as he stroked his fingers over his lips. "I just want you to know that."

"I know it with my entire being, mi cielo," Bane said with the sweetest light in his brown eyes as he met Bruce's tenderly intense blue ones. "And I love you as well," he added.

"So," Bane said with a heavy sigh, ready now to return to darker topics, "oral sex is something that I was forced to receive as a child. I do not know that it will ever be something that I wish for you to perform on me," he said.

"That's totally fine," Bruce said firmly.

"You had expressed a desire to try it with me, though," Bane murmured regretfully. "I am sorry -"

"Bane. Love," Bruce said, reaching up to hold Bane's face in his hands.

"This is not about me. You have to deal with the after-effects of what happened to you every day of your life and if it was in my power to lift that from you, I would."

"Giving up oral sex with you is the most insignificant of burdens for me to bear in relation to yours and I will gladly do that for you. And anything else you need, too," Bruce reassured him.

Bane made a little sound that was sadly appreciative.

"It distresses me that my abuse is affecting you as well as me," he said, "now that we are in a relationship."

"I'd feel bad if it wasn't," Bruce said honestly, "because then you'd be dealing with it all alone and we're in this together, now," he said, causing Bane's eyes to fill with embarrassed tears.

"And yet you act surprised that you bring me joy," Bane sniffed with a warm smile that made Bruce's cheeks heat up as he dipped his head, still embarrassed to be praised by his boyfriend.

He was smiling, though, and Bane's heart sung that it was his words that had put the once-rare sign of life onto the former Bat's face.

"What else should I know about?" Bruce asked him as he dared to raise his head again, not quite able to wipe the silly grin off of his face.

Not that Bane wanted him to.

Bane thought.

"There are certain phrases that I would not want to hear said to me," he admitted, "but they are in Portuguese, so as long as you speak English, I believe all will be well."

"Even if they translate the same?" Bruce asked him nervously.

"Well…" Bane said, considering. "I suppose that you should not call me a 'good boy,'" he said.

"I'm not into kink," Bruce said with an easy smile which Bane returned with a small chuckle, "so that should be easy to avoid. Any others?"

Bane pursed his lips.

"If you would avoid words or phrases that sound like orders," he said. "Even if they are not intended as such."

"Of course," Bruce said, but he was wrinkling his brow. "Would it be possible for you to give me an example?" he said. "I get the direct orders bit, but the ones that lack intention I'm not so sure of," he said.

"Take it," Bane said, not even needing to think about it. "A phrase that is not unusual for bottoms to hear," he said. "Although -"

His voice broke off and Bruce would have looked worried, but Bane's face looked amused and slightly guilty rather than distressed.

"Although…?" Bruce asked him, slowly raising an eyebrow.

"Do not forget that I was on Venom during my previous sexual encounters," Bane said, patting Bruce's arm in pre-emptive comfort, "but it is possible that I may have killed anyone who told me to 'take it.'"

"You _may _have…?" Bruce said suspiciously.

Bane's eyes began to gleam.

"It was a long time ago," he evaded mischievously. "Who can say?"

"Bane," Brue said with what he wanted to be a warning, but he was starting to chuckle despite himself and despite the fact that their topic of conversation was murder, which Bruce was fully opposed to.

But dammit, Bane was being so cute about it.

"Ah, Bruce, what is the past? And what do past lovers mean to us in the here and now?" Bane said airily, stretching his legs out in front of him. "The past is dead and gone," Bane said, lightly waving it away with his hand.

"And so are your exes, apparently," Bruce growled, but the corners of his lips were twitching.

Bane grinned up at him.

"And do you not prefer it so?" he said, trailing his hand up Bruce's chest. "So that Bane is exclusively yours?" he teased.

"Are you going to kill all of _my_ exes?" Bruce said, his jaw dropping as his eyebrows went up.

"Alas, no," Bane murmured as he took advantage of Bruce's open mouth to pop a climbing finger in. "I fear that Gotham would be left with a population of ten if I did that," he said.

Bruce started laughing around the finger in his mouth that he was swirling his tongue around.

"Nine," he said, letting Bane's finger go with a final lick. "Dick's official address is in Bludhaven."

And then Bane was laughing, too, and pressing his mouth into Bruce's for a warm, good-humored kiss that ended up sweet and happy.

Bruce was still giggling as Bane pressed their foreheads together.

"Is there anything else I need to know about sex with you?" he said. "I'm starting to think that I need to go over my life insurance policy to make sure it covers accidental murder during sex."

"Nonsense, Bruce," Bane said impishly. "There was nothing accidental about it."

Bruce began laughing hard and long from his belly.

"I should not be laughing about murder!" he gasped out. "That is not funny, Bane!" he tried to rant, but it came out in giggles.

Bane gave him a pleased smile as Bruce caught his breath and wiped his eyes.

"You ridiculous man," Bruce said affectionately.

"Someone needs to make you laugh more, Bruce," Bane said peacefully, reaching a hand out to run gently through Bruce's curls.

"But returning to your question," Bane said, sobering slightly as he thought.

"Perhaps one day I may like to give you oral sex," he said slowly, "but I do not know. I would prefer not to, for now."

"Totally fine," Bruce said.

Because yeah, oral was good but if his choice was between getting head or getting Bane, he'd pick Bane any day.

"I believe that is all," Bane said thoughtfully. "But if anything else comes to mind, I will let you know," he promised.

"Good," Bruce said. "I love you, baby," he added, leaning up to kiss him gently.

"Te amo," Bane murmured against his lips.

"Do you know why I broke your back?" Bane whispered to him as he pulled and nibbled at Bruce's lower lip.

"Can't say that I do," Bruce said in surprise, "other than the fact that I was Batman and you were taking over the Gotham underworld."

Bane hummed a little bit as he kept kissing Bruce.

"I used to have terrible nightmares," he said, "as a child. About a demonic bat who sought me out to destroy me."

"Oh, Bane," Bruce said in horrified empathy, pulling back from his mouth. "Sweetheart, I'm so sorry," he said. "And now you're wearing the Batsuit? Is that bothering you?"

"No, no," Bane said. "The opposite in fact. I have become that which I feared," he said with a wicked grin. "The power is now mine."

"But you can understand that when I first came to Gotham, I had been on the Venom for years and suffering from extreme paranoia. And then I discover that the city is haunted by a giant bat…"

Bruce's heart lurched in sympathy, even though it was his own back that had gotten broken.

Because the thought of little Bane, already living as a tiny child in prison with the worst kind of adult criminals, being sexually abused during his waking hours by a malicious priest, and being hunted through his dreams by a sadistic bat so that he never had a moment's peace… Bruce wanted to cry for his boyfriend.

"Well," Bane said with a sigh. "When I learned of the Batman, I determined to rid myself of my childhood curse once and for all."

"Why didn't you kill me?" Bruce asked him, frowning. "It would have been more permanent."

"Who can kill a demon?" Bane laughed sadly. "I thought disabling you my wisest move as you would surely resurrect yourself from death."

Bruce chuckled softly at Bane's drug-addled logic, but with empathetic regret for the torments that once plagued his lover.

"It is a miracle what you have overcome," Bruce said to him.

"A miracle arrived at through much hard work," Bane said realistically. "The path was not easy."

"You're a brave man, love," Bruce said with admiration.

Bane smiled at him.

"No braver than you, Bruce."

Bruce began to shake his head but Bane reached up and caught his jaw to hold it still.

"Losing your parents in front of you as a small child?" Bane said to him gently. "Leaving the only home you had ever known, as well as your lifelong guardian, to travel the world training and studying for revenge? Returning to the city of so much pain to construct the legend of the Batman when staying away would have allowed you a happier life?"

Bruce sighed, taking comfort in the thumb that was stroking along his jawbone.

"Becoming a parent," Bane continued relentlessly, "when doing so necessarily reopened old wounds?"

Bruce's breath caught in his throat, because he never spoke about the emotional challenges that parenthood had presented him with. It _had _been hard adopting Dick, not in the moment, because Bruce's heart had bled for the boy so much, but afterwards, when the reality of being a father began to sink in.

How many times had his mind gone to his parents in those first few weeks and months and years, seeing his childhood from their eyes as he tried his best to become a good father.

And he _had_ tried, in those years. Despite how much Harley teased him. Bruce had really tried hard, not just with Dick, but with Jason, too, and he'd thought that he'd done a fairly good job, until Jason had died.

Although he hadn't realized just how terrible a job he'd done until this afternoon. Still, things might have been worse for the boys in the foster care system, although there was no way to ever know for sure.

And they were making up now; at least, Bruce was with each of his kids. If only Dick and Jason could make up with each other, though, Bruce thought helplessly. It would mean everything to him to know for sure that despite the pain of the past, his family's future wouldn't be as ugly.

"Now do I get to know about Harley and the school?" Bruce asked him, clearing his throat, suddenly eager to change the subject.

"Oh, dear," Bane sighed. "You will not like it."

"Lay it on me," Bruce smiled bravely.

* * *

"Harley!" Bruce yelled, bursting into the kitchen where his daughter-in-law was calmly drinking a cup of coffee and working on her laptop while Jason and Babs met in the solarium.

"Yeah, Brucie?" she said innocently.

"Deadshot made bullet outlines of the students?" Bruce screamed, tugging at his hair.

Harley raised an eyebrow at him, peering behind him to look for Bane but seeing no one.

"And then slid around on an _iced floor _shooting up the entire classroom?" Bruce continued to freak out, his eyes bugging out of his head with stress.

"Holy shit, Harley! What the fuck were you thinking?" Bruce ranted.

Harley wrinkled her nose up.

"I smell a rat," she said distastefully, standing up and backing away from Bruce.

"I'm gonna go see Alfred about calling an exterminator," she said, inching around the table and trying to suss out her best chance of getting around Bruce.

"You're not going anywhere," Bruce glared at her, crossing his arms over his chest and blocking the only doorway in and out of the kitchen.

Harley's eyes darted around the kitchen as she chewed her lip, thinking nervously of her options.

Suddenly, a villainous gleam came into her eye. Bruce crouched down and held his hands out, getting ready for her - but his jaw dropped in horror when she bolted away from the door, instead of towards him - and straight to Alfred's knife stand.

"NO!" Bruce screamed in high-pitched panic as Harley yanked the largest knife out and threw it - not towards Bruce, but away from the doorway so that Bruce had to lunge for it to keep it from hitting the floor.

Harley's giggle as she fled the room floated back to Bruce's ears which were pounding with the blood rushing through his veins - not from the exertion of flying across the room and snatching the knife out of the air just before it hit the ground - but from the panic in his heart.

He quickly clambered to his feet, cradling the knife and rushing it back to the knife stand, making sure to wipe the fingerprints off, before Alfred came back and handed in his letter of resignation.

Damn that Harley Quinn, Bruce thought to himself sourly, not even feeling guilty about using her villainous name this one last time.

She fucking deserved her old clown name for the atrocity she'd just committed.

It was Alfred's _knife._

* * *

_A/N - Thanks for reading! It's hard to believe, but we are getting near the END! There are probably about 10 chapters left. _

_I'd love to hear what your favorite parts of the story have been so far, and if there's anything you're dying to see play out before the story ends. Jason and Dick will definitely have a huge confrontation, that is coming up very soon, but other than that? _

_I can't promise wishes will make it in there - BUT - I did add an entire chapter to "Troublemakers" because a few people wondered what Dick's reaction would be... so... speak now!_

_**Chapter Summary for those who skipped reading** \- Bruce and Bane discuss his sexual triggers related to his childhood abuse. Bane gives Bruce some specific things to avoid. Bane tells Bruce he broke his back years ago because he used to have nightmares of a demonic bat hunting him down when he was a kid, and he was hopped up on the Venom and paranoid when he came to Gotham and learned that Batman existed. Bane tells Bruce what Harley and the Suicide Squad actually did at Tim and Steph's school. _

_And, in general... _

_All Fanfiction writers are thirsty vampires and comments are our lifeblood. 😁 Emojis, keyboard smashes, and one-two word comments nourish us just as much as longer comments do. __(But if you are mean, we will cut a bitch. Cuz we are vampires rawr )_

_I post updates weekly. Make sure to subscribe if you want to be notified when the new chapter posts._

_Please check out my other Batman fics - tons of rarepairs (did someone say addict? Yes. Yes I am.) but I do have the occasional classic ship mixed in._

_Also, I've got a Justice League: Animated Series longfic in the works that updates weekly - "A Light in the Dark." Is it full of rarepairs? Hell yeah it is!_

_You can follow me on tumblr as River9Noble. Come say hi!_


	41. Chapter 41

"I shall return," Damian said abruptly to Tim when his phone buzzed in the middle of their sparring match inside the Wayne Manor ballroom-made-gym where the three children had been training.

"Damian?" Tim said in surprise, his jaw hanging open slightly as he paused, bo staff in hand, watching the tiny boy trot over to pick up his phone from the edge of the mats before dashing out of the room.

"Little D?" Steph called after him in confusion from the weight machine where she was working on her upper body strength.

The two teens looked at each other.

"Who even has his phone number except for Jason and Bane?" Tim asked Steph, furrowing his brow.

"Dick," Steph said softly, causing Tim's eyebrows to go up.

"Grayson, you made excellent time," Damian was saying as he opened the front door of Wayne Manor and briskly ushered his older brother inside.

"Come, we must hurry," Damian said, grabbing his hand and tugging him into a run across the far side of the foyer as Bruce's yelling erupted from the kitchen.

"Little D?" Dick said with some concern as he looked over his shoulder towards the noise.

Did… did he just hear Bruce say something about _bullet outlines_?

But Damian was forcing him onwards towards the solarium.

Dick heard the gentle sounds of Barbara's laughter coming through the trees as Damian dragged him through the plants in the sun-dappled glass room.

"Someone's coming," he heard a lower voice say before Dick found himself pulled abruptly into the small circle of white cast iron furniture tucked away in the back corner of the solarium.

"Dick!" Babs said, completely startled to see him, her eyes flying open wide first in surprise and then in concern as she glanced nervously over at... well, it had to be Jason.

It _was_ Jason, but he was so much older, and bigger, and simmering with some combination of disgust and rage as he glowered at Dick Grayson, all-around-shit and piece of scum.

Dick swallowed.

"Baba," Damian said with untroubled ease and not a small bit of pride. "I have procured Grayson so that he may apologize to you."

"Did you, now, habibi," Jason said very evenly to Damian, not breaking eye contact with Dick for one second.

"Yes," Damian said serenely. "I knew that he would desire to repair his relationship with you now that you had returned from your mission so I called him over to the Manor."

Jason did glance at Damian then, quirking an amused eyebrow up.

"Did you inform him of the reason _why _you called him over?" Jason asked Damian, flicking his eyes back to Dick who looked, frankly, sick with panic.

Which wasn't a bad look on him, Jason thought with inward glee.

"He said it was an emergency," Dick managed to say hoarsely, still staring aghast at the man who he had so gravely wronged so many years ago when Jason was tiny, and vulnerable, and sad, and helpless.

"Indeed it is," Damian said calmly. "It is most urgent that you apologize to Baba for your past behavior towards him so that we can be a fully functioning family unit. Division in the ranks leads to disaster," he said reprovingly.

"Jason told you," Dick said, swallowing hard again, "he told you -"

"That you were a foolish child, wrongly jealous of him and at odds with Father, and therefore became intolerably rude," Damian said scoldingly.

"Yes," Dick said slowly, realizing with relief that Jason had not, in fact, told little D everything.

"Yes, I was all of that and more," Dick said heavily, his eyes filled with regret as he sank down into a metal chair.

He had still been so viscerally, adamantly, nauseatingly, automatically angry at the very thought of Jason Todd, even last night, even though he knew by now that it was wrong and that he, Dick Grayson, was the problem.

But thinking of Jason still made his skin crawl and his stomach boil with rage. Against his will and against his reason, but there it was.

But now, as Dick stared at the man sitting across from him, the man who was watching him warily with angry, guarded eyes, Dick felt nothing but grief.

This - this wasn't the small boy who he'd been scared of and angry at. This wasn't a usurper or a wild, unruly teenager who refused to listen to Bruce and came home from school more days than not covered in blood and bruises.

That Jason Todd from his past? Sure, Dick might still feel angry at him, but this person sitting across from him? Dick didn't even know how to feel towards him.

Except for, perhaps, ashamed.

"Come on, Damian," Babs said, standing up and reaching her hand out for the small boy who was watching Dick expectantly.

"We should let them talk by themselves."

Damian huffed in frustration and put his hands on his hips.

"It's ok, habibi," Jason said in a kinder, gentler voice than Dick would have ever expected to hear come out of the man.

"We'll talk and then we'll come report to you afterwards, ok?" Jason said with a little smile.

"Very well, baba," Damian sighed with resignation. "But I expect a full report of a complete reconciliation," Damian said firmly, staring imperiously first at Jason and then at Dick.

"We'll do our best," Dick promised him, and Jason glanced at him, because Dick's tone of voice said that he meant it.

In fact, the older man didn't appear to be on the offensive at all, Jason realized. His posture, his body language - Dick looked defeated, Jason thought with surprise. And the relief that flooded his system at that observation was overwhelming.

Because despite years of training and work as an assassin under the most skilled, lethal cadre of villains in the world, and despite years of violence and domination as Red Hood, Jason had still been terrified of facing his one-time tormentor.

But the man sitting before him? He looked broken. Jason doubted that Dick would even be able to raise his voice to him if he tried. And that bolstered Jason's confidence tenfold.

"Very well," Damian said, finally deigning to reach his little hand out to Babs and allowing himself to be escorted out of the solarium as his aunt gave a pleading look first to Jason and then a longer one to Dick.

Their footsteps faded away and silence fell in the solarium as the sun fell through the foliage into scattered pools of light around Dick and Jason.

Jason was damned if he was going to talk first, no matter how much trouble Dick seemed to be having in forming words or finding his voice.

"I'm sorry," Dick finally said, his voice rough with emotion. "I'm so sorry, Jason. I know that doesn't excuse anything or make it better or make up for it, but… I'm sorry," he said again, helplessly.

Jason let out a steady breath.

"What, exactly, are you sorry for?" he asked Dick with a piercing gaze.

Dick blinked.

"Everything," he said.

"Really?" Jason said skeptically. "Everything?" he said. "I'm gonna need you to elaborate," he said, deliberately goading Dick, but not unjustly, Jason thought.

Because he found it hard to believe that Dickiebird truly understood what he'd even done to him.

"Well, for being so mean to you," Dick said, dropping his head and flushing a little bit before forcing himself to look Jason in the eyes again. "Saying that I had it worse, that your situation wasn't so bad…"

Dick trailed off for a moment.

"I was an ass," he said bravely, meeting his younger brother's coolly assessing eyes. "I was so caught up in what I'd been through, in having my parents murdered, that I didn't think losing your mom to cancer was as big of a deal," Dick said with not a small amount of very adult embarrassment.

"And of course it was," Dick said quickly. "Losing a parent is traumatic for any child, no matter how it happens. I know that now," Dick said.

"Uh huh," Jason said, clearly expecting more.

Dick swallowed.

"And your dad - well, I didn't really know all the details back then," Dick mumbled. "Just that he was gone, too, but I gather he was abusive," he said, turning a bright shade of red under Jason's cold stare.

"And of course that was way different than me, coming from a loving, supportive family," Dick said, squirming very uncomfortably now in his seat as Jason watched, not giving his older brother an ounce of support as he listed his crimes.

"Not to mention growing up in the Narrows," Dick added, sensing that Jason still felt his confession lacking.

"I mean, yes, it was hard for me to leave the circus," Dick said bravely as his insides twisted and turned, "but I see now that at least I had grown up with financial security," he said, "and you didn't, and that must have been very difficult," Dick faltered.

"And…?" Jason prompted him.

Dick stared at him blankly, feeling like a bug under a microscope as he wracked his brains for what else he might have done - oh.

"Robin," Dick sputtered. "I was so angry at you over Robin, but I finally get how that was between me and Bruce," he said. "Me and Bruce had a long talk about it," Dick said, expelling a deep breath at the memory of their emotional heart to heart, "and there were a lot of misunderstandings between us."

"Right," Jason said shortly. "But it wasn't about misunderstandings between you and me, was it?" he said sharply.

"Well, no," Dick admitted, dipping his head for a second. "I was angry that you didn't appreciate what you'd been given and, well -" he had to stop because the pain in his chest was becoming overwhelming, despite having hugged things out with Bruce.

"It hurt," Dick finally said, feeling his chin start to shake as some tears formed in his eyes. "I was jealous," he admitted, "and it hurt a lot when Bruce told me last month that you had never wanted to be Robin when that was all I'd ever wanted to be," Dick said.

"I judged you for that," Dick mumbled. "And I'm sorry. I couldn't understand at first why the hell you wouldn't have wanted Robin. Or said yes to it when you didn't want to do it."

"Cause you were thinking with your child brain," Jason said matter-of-factly.

Dick looked at him quizzically.

"All that shit you never worked out with Bruce?" Jason said to him. "That left you mentally stuck in your child brain. So you reacted as a child when Bruce told you the truth about me."

"Yeah," Dick said slowly. "I guess so. That makes sense," he said, looking at Jason with some surprise. "Did Harley tell you that?" he guessed.

Jason nodded, a little smile curling up the edge of his lips at the thought of his wife, which Dick couldn't help but notice.

"Harley's really smart," Dick said with a little smile of his own.

"I thought Babs was, too," Jason said conversationally, "but her staying with you after all the shit you pulled on her is making me rethink that."

Dick jumped back in his seat a little bit, both surprised and angry at Jason's words and not a little bit intimidated at the ending growl in Jason's voice and the protective, predatory glare that he was now leveling his brother with.

_Don't start a fight_, Dick told himself.

But the more urgent command he had to give himself was not to run away. Because every instinct in his body was telling him to lash out and then retreat to safety. Attack and flee. Establish himself as the alpha, then run to hide.

He took a shaky breath.

"Some would say that avoiding conflict is better than starting it at every given opportunity," Dick said, cautiously going on the offensive.

Jason snorted.

"You think _I _started all those fights in high school?" he said. "Is that what you're pissed about, Dickhead?"

"Yeah, kind of," Dick said, sitting up a little straighter in his chair and squaring his shoulders. "Coming from a rough background didn't mean that you had to fight every kid in Gotham High. I came from a different background than they had, too, and I didn't get into fights like that," Dick said self-righteously.

"Honestly, Jason?" he said, his voice gaining a little more strength. "I'm not sorry for thinking that you went looking for trouble. That's an accurate take on the situation."

"Oh, really?" Jason said, his voice going low and lethal. "You think I went looking for trouble in Ethiopia, too, Dickie?"

Dick flushed and looked away as Jason let out a dark chuckle.

"Fuck, you do, don't you," he said. "I knew you were still a shit," he said lazily with nonplussed self-satisfaction.

"How does that make me a shit?" Dick exploded, feeling the familiar rage towards Jason bubbling up in his chest again. "You fought everyone you could and you deliberately ignored Bruce when he told you not to go to Ethiopia."

"Because it was for my _mom_, you asshole," Jason yelled at him, giving up some of his tight control. "You think I was gonna let Bruce keep me from helping my mom? She was the only parent I had left. But I guess you couldn't understand that, coming from such a perfect family, and all," Jason sneered at him.

"And I don't see you blaming Bruce for refusing to take me there," Jason said, getting angrier. "If he had come with me, Jokes wouldn't have been able to kill me. Or do you think that's my fault, too, you little dick? You think I expected my mom to lie to me and Joker to be there waiting for me? You really think I was that stupid?"

Dick flushed.

"I thought you were reckless," he mumbled.

"Reckless," Jason spat at him. "Reckless. Sure. Doing recon for hours on the warehouse and seeing Sheila come out for a smoke by herself before trying to save her, and her telling me that they were all gone and it was safe before leading me inside straight to Joker and his crowbar. But I was reckless?" Jason raged, pushing himself out of his chair and beginning to pace.

"I was reckless for believing that my mom, of all people, wouldn't lead me straight to my death? For believing that my mom wouldn't stand there and _watch _Joker beat me near to death before he rigged the warehouse to blow and left both of us there to die? That makes me _reckless_?" Jason snapped.

Dick was staring at him in horror, a hand creeping up to cover his mouth.

"Jason, I didn't - we didn't know -" he was trying to say.

"But you know what, Dickie?" Jason was starting to laugh in a crazed, calloused way.

"Maybe I _was_ reckless," he chuckled. "Or maybe I was just plain stupid," he said. "Because yeah, my wounds might have ended up killing me anyway, but I didn't die when the bombs went off. Not right away," Jason snarled.

"Jason," Dick mumbled with tears in his eyes, holding his hands up in surrender. "Jason, please -"

"No, you're right," Jason spat at him. "I was reckless, Dickhead. I could have crawled for the exit and tried to get out. Who knows, I might have made it," he said. "But my _reckless _ass tried to untie my mom so she could get out, too. God knows why I thought it was a good idea to try to help that murdering piece of shit," Jason laughed hysterically, "but I was just a reckless little sonofabitch."

"Jason," Dick murmured in horror, the tears rolling down his cheeks now as Jason's laughs became a mix of something between cynicism and tears.

"Jason, I'm sorry," Dick said, stumbling to his feet. "I didn't know. Bruce didn't even know."

"Well, how could he?" Jason laughed uncontrollably. "I was _dead._ Dead men tell no tales, Dickie!" Jason sang right before Dick gently wrapped his arms around his shaking brother.

Jason stiffened and silence reigned for the briefest of seconds before he started sobbing helplessly, trying to push his brother away at first, but Dick held on and gently tightened his hug.

"It's ok," Dick murmured soothingly in Jason's hair. "You're safe now. I got you," he said comfortingly as tears flowed from his eyes, too.

Jason was crying too hard to speak at first as Dick kept rubbing his back and holding him, and Jason really, really did not want to lean on Dickie for support, but fuck if his flashbacks weren't overwhelming him and the smoke and the heat and flames and he could feel the pain in his broken bones and his mom was right there in front of him, telling him he was such a good kid and she didn't deserve him - which was true, but dammit, not what Jason wanted to be thinking about - and the Joker's crazy laugh was ringing in his ears and Dick was a solid wall of resentment in the present that he could hold onto, so Jason found himself clinging to his brother's chest and trying to focus on the circular pattern that Dick was rubbing on his back, and maybe he could count the circles - counting was a good tool for flashbacks, that's what Harley had taught him - so Jason gave up on trying to control his sobs and let himself slump onto Dick while he counted circles and cried himself out and tried to remember that he was here with a present enemy instead of ones from the past.

It was fifty-two circles before Jason was able to take a breath that didn't exhale into a sob. It was seventy-eight before he was able to lift his head and half-heartedly push Dick off of him.

"Lemme go," Jason muttered, rubbing his nose on his sleeve first, and then his eyes. "I'm fine."

"Should I go find Harley?" Dick asked with touchingly sweet concern, dammit, as he easily dropped his arms and stepped back to give Jason his space.

Jason shook his head and sat back down, still scrubbing at his face.

"Just gimme a minute," he said roughly, taking deep breaths and attempting to pull himself back together.

"Ok," Dick said gently, sitting back down, too, and watching him with worried eyes which Jason refused to meet.

"You know, I only beat up the motherfuckers at school who gave me shit," Jason said after a minute, raising his head to stare at Dick defiantly with an abrupt change of subject. "I never started nothin'. I only finished it," he said.

"Oh," Dick murmured in surprise. "I didn't - I didn't know you were being picked on," he said slowly.

"Fuck yes, you did," Jason argued. "The shit you gave me was a thousand times worse than anything the kids at school said."

Dick sighed.

"Why didn't you beat me up, then?" he asked Jason curiously.

Jason snorted.

"God, you really don't get it, do you, golden boy?" he said. "Bruce would've picked you over me any day if his newly adopted kid came in and started giving his first son hell. It would've been back to the orphanage for Jason Todd."

"No," Dick protested.

Jason scoffed.

"Child brain," he said. "Reality don't matter a lick if a kid believes otherwise."

"Oh. Right," Dick said quietly, his eyes going softer and getting more compassionate.

Until he remembered what Jason had said about Barbara and frowned.

"Don't blame Babs for staying with me," he said. "She's a good person."

"Too good," Jason said. "Way too good for you."

"I know," Dick said softly, which allayed some of Jason's righteously protective anger.

"I know," Dick repeated more heavily. "I've been so immature in our relationship," he said with a sigh. "Always running out on her, too afraid to argue… same with me and Bruce," he said.

"I mean, I'd pick fights with Bruce, but never about what was actually wrong. I'd fight to cover up what the real problem was," Dick said with a sigh.

"But I really am trying to get better now, Jason," he said. "With Babs and Bruce, both."

Jason grunted non-committally.

"And with you, too?" Dick said wistfully. "Not that I deserve anything from you, but -"

Jason cut him off with a loud, annoyed sigh.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," Jason grumbled. "You don't deserve it, I don't deserve it, Bane don't deserve it, Harley don't deserve it, Bruce sure as hell don't deserve it -" Jason grinned, then, but there was some teasing in his smile which pulled a relieved and hopeful smile out of Dick.

"That's one thing we both agree on," Dick said with a returning twinkle in his eye, making Jason chuckle.

"Look," Jason said. "I ain't never gonna be your BFF, so don't go getting your hopes up about getting a bracelet from me."

"A bracelet?" Dick said, confused.

"A friendship bracelet," Jason told him, raising his wrist to proudly show his off. "Such as BFF's give to one another as a tangible sign of their undying love."

"Is one of those an alien?" Dick said, squinting.

"Yes," Jason said. "Not the point. You won't be getting one from me."

Dick's lips twitched.

"You could give me one shaped like a butt," he said. "Because I'm an asshole."

"You know you'd get a dick if I gave you one at all," Jason said chidingly. "Do yourself a favor and take ownership of your stupid-ass name. But since I am _not _a dick _or _an asshole, you won't be getting a matchy-matchy bracelet from me," he said with finality. "Because we are _not _BFF's and never will be."

"Right. We're frenemies," Dick said gravely. "So we shouldn't use matching bracelets. Mine can be a dick and yours can be an angel."

Jason raised an eyebrow.

"Because I was the blameless one in our relationship?" he said suspiciously.

"Right. Yes," Dick said, nodding his head.

Jason narrowed his eyes at him.

"Bitch, I know you didn't tell me I get an angel because I died," he growled at Dick.

"Never," Dick said quickly as the corners of his mouth spasmed. "I would never even imply such a thing. Really, Jason, how could you?" he said with wide-eyed innocence.

Jason slowly, menacingly, stood to his feet.

"I'm gonna go tell Damian we made up," Dick squeaked, quickly jumping up onto his chair and doing a backflip over it, then bolting through the trees.

"Get back here, you fucking asshole!" Jason yelled, beginning to chase after him, dodging plants and chairs.

"I'm not an asshole!" Dick yelled back from way ahead of him.

"I'm a diiiiiiick."

* * *

Thanks for reading! Probably about 9 chapters left to go!

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	42. Chapter 42

_**Chapter 42**_

"Babs! Hi! Can't talk now!" Harley yelled as she dashed past Babs in a manor hallway and darted around a corner.

Babs turned her head and blinked.

Only to be accosted mere seconds later by a charging, angry, bellowing Bruce.

"Harley Quinn, you get your ass back here!" he was yelling, but when he saw Babs he abruptly pulled himself up short.

"Did you know about this?" he growled at her. "Tell me that the Police Commissioner did not know about this."

"Know about what?" Babs said, wrinkling her brow.

"Do bullet outlines of students ring a bell?" Bruce rumbled at her, creeping closer to crowd her space.

She swore she didn't mean to, but - Babs snickered.

"Son of a bitch!" Bruce swore. "You were supposed to be the reliable one, Babs," he snarked, advancing on her as she took several steps backwards.

"You were supposed to be the incorruptible police chief," Bruce continued to rant, glaring at her.

"They sexually assaulted my sister-in-law!" Babs protested as she raised her hands up and unconsciously dropped her back leg into a fighting stance.

Which would have looked much more intimidating if the corners of her mouth hadn't been twitching.

"They sexually _assaulted _Steph?" Bruce yelped in shock, looking absolutely horrified as his hands unconsciously flew into his hair.

"With words," Babs quickly clarified. "Not physically. As far I know."

"Do you play this free and easy with criminal charges?" Bruce huffed at her in a mixture of relief and exasperation. "There is a big difference between sexual harassment and sexual assault, Barbara," he snapped at her before taking a deep breath and letting it out.

"Not always to the person experiencing it!" Babs countered back, putting her hands on her hips.

Bruce's growl told her exactly what he thought of that answer.

"Which way did Harley go?" he demanded.

"Why?" Babs said cautiously, side-stepping in front of the angry Bat to block his path down the hallway.

Brue gave her a very annoyed look.

"Because she is in Big Trouble for what she let Deadshot do at the school, that's why," Bruce said, trying to shuffle past her without actually shoving his daughter-in-law aside.

"Deadshot didn't do anything," Babs answered him with eyes twinkling and firmly planted feet. "It was Mr. Freeze and his henchmen. You can read all about it in my police report."

"Uh huh," Bruce growled, trying to feint past his former Batgirl and finding her to be just as quick on her feet and just as obnoxiously in his path.

"I would say the asshole bullies got exactly what they deserved," Babs said. "You can't tell me you honestly disagree."

Bruce gave up trying to get past her for a minute and frowned hard, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Deadshot could have killed someone," Bruce snapped. "Or shot someone."

"The fact that he didn't, with all of his shenanigans, tells me that your fears are not valid complaints about Harley's solution," Babs answered in a more serious tone.

"Think about it, Bruce," she continued. "He outlined several kids, who had to hold themselves still while he did it, and nobody got shot. He iced the hands and feet of the girl who was wiggling too much so she wouldn't get hurt. And he didn't shoot a single kid as he flew across the ice in a rolly-chair. That says to me that Deadshot was in complete control of the situation and was acting well within acceptable safety limits."

"You're kidding me," Bruce flatly.

Babs shrugged.

"I'm more administrative than anything else these days," she said. "Risk assessment is a big part of my job and my conclusions fit the evidence. Yours don't."

Bruce let out a very Steph-like groan of irritation, complete with a top-notch imitation of a teenaged-girl eye roll.

"Besides," Babs went on, "Harley specifically recommended that you remain in the dark about the exact events that transpired. For your own mental well-being. Did she not?"

"Yes," Bruce sulked.

"So someone chose not to follow the advice of a recognized psychiatric expert, isn't that right?" Babs said with twinkling eyes. "This sounds like a you-problem, Bruce," she concluded with a grin.

Bruce huffed and started to give her another eye roll when Bane rounded the corner of the hallway behind Babs.

"Ah! Bruce," Bane said somewhat sheepishly. "Our dear Harley has informed me that her life is in danger."

"You know I don't kill people," Bruce grumbled, pinching his eyebrows together and therefore missing the way that Babs' shoulders suddenly tensed at Bane's voice and the way that her face went blank and rigid.

"And Deadshot doesn't kill people either!" Harley said cheerfully, popping her head out from behind Bane's bulk. "At least, not kids. So you got all mad for nothin', Brucie," she said as if he was the unreasonable one.

Which clearly he wasn't, but when faced with an army of ferocious women - and nevermind that there were only two of them, Babs and Harley were a handful to deal with - Bruce decided that maybe, just maybe, he could draw on the apathy that he had spent the last month perfecting and will himself not to care anymore.

The rest of his family seemed determined to approve of Deadshot and Harley's antics, after all, so what was the harm in being a little laissez-faire?

Bruce let out a long, beleaguered sigh at the way that the once great and moral Batman had fallen.

"Come now, Bruce, let's get you a cup of tea," Bane said in a soothing voice, moving forward to wrap his arms around his boyfriend so he could gently lead him back towards the kitchen while giving a sparkling grin to Harley and Babs from behind Bruce's head.

Which Babs definitely did not return, although Harley giggled.

"Did you already talk to Jay?" Harley asked Babs once Bane had safely steered Bruce away.

"Yes," Babs said, redirecting her attention to Harley. "And Damian called Dick over."

"He did what?" Harley said, dropping her jaw.

Babs rubbed her head and groaned.

"I know," she said. "Damian got it into his head that all Dick needed to do was apologize to Jason as 'he would surely want to,'" she parroted in Damian-speak. "So Dick and Jason are talking it out right now in the solarium."

"Not with Damian there," Harley said, raising her eyebrows in concern.

"No, no," Babs said quickly. "I sent him back to the gym to finish training."

"How did Jay seem when Dick showed up?" Harley asked Babs, looking worried.

"Ok," Babs said. "Better than I thought he would, honestly. Dick seemed better, too, than I was expecting. Less angry and more lost, which is probably a good thing."

"No kidding," Harley murmured. "Well…" she said slowly. "I guess we should let them talk it out 'til they're done, then…"

"Maybe we should go sit with Bruce and Bane in the kitchen?" Babs said hesitantly. "I only really spoke to Bane for the first time ever that day he stopped King Snake from bombing the train station," she said, seeming like she was about to say more and then changing her mind.

"Oh, yeah, come and get to know him!" Harley said enthusiastically. "Bane's the best. Him and me are really good friends. It was me who helped him detox from the Venom, actually!" she brightly chattered away as she and Babs started walking back towards the kitchen.

And if Babs didn't say anything in return to Harley, the former psychiatrist was far too animated to notice.

In the kitchen, Bruce was sitting at the table with his head in his hands while Bane massaged his shoulders.

"I should've listened to you and Harley, maybe," Bruce mumbled while they waited for the kettle to boil.

"Perhaps I, too, should not have allowed you to persuade me to tell you the details of the escapade," Bane conceded. "But I did not like keeping secrets from you," he confessed.

"And I hated not knowing," Bruce groaned.

"What do they say?" Bane asked him. "Curiosity killed the cat?"

"That's me," Bruce sighed. "Curious to a fault."

"Ah, well, many times it helps you in your line of work," Bane consoled him. "Great detectives must nurture their curiosity in order to unravel the mysteries that they are presented with."

"Very true," Bruce murmured, letting out a slightly deeper groan as Bane worked out a particularly sensitive knot in his neck.

"I like this," Bruce said, turning his head for a moment to smile up at Bane.

"The massage?" Bane asked him.

"The massage, you being the one giving it to me, you being here to calm me down when I get upset, you being here in general…" Bruce said, his eyes going soft and tender.

"Ah, mi cielo," Bane said, bending his head down to Bruce's. "I like being here with you as well," he smiled before leaning in to gently kiss Bruce's lips.

Bruce relaxed into the kiss, marveling at the utterly ridiculous sense of happiness that insisted on bubbling up inside of him whenever he was with Bane.

"I love you," he mouthed against Bane's lips when his boyfriend started to pull away.

"I love you as well," Bane said back, giving him a final kiss before moving towards the kettle which was starting to sing.

"Is it safe to come in?" Harley giggled as she and Babs appeared in the doorway. "Nobody's gonna try to BatCuff us?" she grinned.

"I've decided to fall back into not giving a damn just this once," Bruce said magnanimously, waving the two women over.

"Except for Alfred's knife," he hissed suddenly after first checking the doorway for any signs of the butler.

Babs gasped in horror as Harley frowned.

"What's the big deal with the knives, anyway?" she asked. "I haven't had a chance to ask Jay yet and nobody else will tell me."

"Because speaking of it is forbidden," Bruce growled with such a dark look on his face that Harley remembered just how scary the big old Batman used to be once upon a time.

"Ok, ok," she grumbled. "I'll ask Jay when we go home. Or tonight in bed," she mumbled underneath her breath.

"Harley, Barbara, would you like a cup of tea?" Bane asked the women as he carried his and Bruce's teacups over to the table.

"Coffee instead?" Babs said, giving Harley a knowing look as she stood.

"There's some left in the pot," Harley said, motioning towards the counter and handing her almost empty mug to Babs. "It was still hot before somebody chased me outta the kitchen," Mrs. Hood complained, sniffing down her nose at Bruce.

"I didn't chase you anywhere," Bruce contradicted her. "I did my absolute best to keep you _in _the kitchen."

"Which had the effect of chasing me out of it," Harley snickered. "You almost made me believe for a minute there that you could suit up again, Brucie," she giggled.

"Not that I'm telling you to," she cautioned.

"I won't be going out again, I don't think," Bruce sighed, causing Bane to make an appreciative sound of relief and support.

"Except -" Bruce said, frowning.

He leaned forward across the table to Harley as Babs came back to join them with coffee for her and Harley.

"Would you happen to know which criminals used to pick on Bane about his appearance?" Bruce said.

"Oh," Harley said, darting a glance over to Bane who had started turning slightly red at the question.

"Yeah," Harley said to Bruce. "Yeah, I might have heard a few things from a few people back in the day," she said carefully.

"Bruce, please," Bane said, reaching out to lay his hand on his boyfriend's arm. "It is not important."

"We've already had this conversation," Bruce said, glancing at him without cracking a smile. "It's important to me."

Harley was making 'awww' shapes with her mouth and laying a hand on her heart as she caught Babs' eye.

"I do not want you to risk your life in seeking revenge when you are not in peak form," Bane insisted. "The risk to yourself is not worth it, mi amor."

"I'll go with him," Harley said nonchalantly. "And Jay'll come, too. We won't let him get hurt."

"Harley," Bane said in surprise.

"You avenged me," Harley said somberly. "I totally want to beat your bullies down."

Bruce gave her a heartfelt smile.

"No killing anyone," he said, though.

"Okey dokey," Harley said easily. "They'll suffer more anyway, if we let 'em live. All that recovery time from all those injuries," she sighed with a dreamy look of rapture on her face.

Bruce's grin became slightly evil.

"I'm ok with that," he said.

"No torturing people, however," Bane said, though, brushing his fingers against Bruce's arm. "Do not go back to that place of darkness for me, Bruce. It would upset me rather than avenge me."

"I won't cross the line," Bruce mumbled, glancing at Bane out of the corner of his eye and being the one to look slightly embarrassed now.

"You two seem very happy together," Barbara observed tentatively as she watched Bruce and Bane's interactions.

"Oh, yeah, Bane! You never really got to know Babs yet," Harley said. "But I guess you two met already."

"Over business," Bane acknowledged with a slight smile. "Not as family. I am looking forward to getting to know both you and your husband," he said.

"Not my husband," Babs murmured, looking down.

"Ah. Forgive me," Bane said immediately.

"It's ok," Babs said, but there was a hint of wistfulness in her tone as she stared into her coffee.

Bruce gave her a concerned look.

"Dick told me why you didn't want to get married," he said gently. "But you're allowed to change your mind."

"Maybe someday," Babs said, giving him a little smile that still managed to look sad. "I'm not going to rush into anything and Dick needs time to prove himself, that he's serious about changing."

"That's wise," Bruce said reassuringly, reaching out a hand to rub her back. "You're both still young, is all I'm saying," he said. "And even if you weren't, well, you're never too old to get married," he smiled at her.

"Or to adopt another hundred kids," Harley added, wiggling her eyebrows at him and making him laugh out loud.

"I only have five kids, Harley," Bruce protested. "That's hardly anything."

"Hardly anything, he says," Harley said to Babs, shaking her head and giggling. "I can barely imagine what it's going to be like to have just one," she laughed.

"Are you and Jason going to have kids?" Babs asked her curiously.

Bruce's eyes lit up eagerly at the thought of grandkids, but he carefully said nothing.

"We want to, yeah," Harley said happily. "I'm thirty-three, so I got a couple years left before they'd call me a high-risk pregnancy," she said.

"But even so, lotsa women these days have kids after thirty-five and it goes just fine. Me and Jay haven't been together all that long, so we'd like to wait a little while before starting," she said.

"I'm twenty-nine," Babs said thoughtfully, with a slightly furrowed brow.

"You got lotsa time," Harley comforted her. "And you can always do like Brucie and adopt," she said. "Hell, for all I know, me and Jay won't be able to have our own kids and we could end up adopting, too," she said, giving a little shrug with her shoulders.

"Who's adopting?" Dick said, bursting into the kitchen at a run. "Bruce?" he said, slamming himself around Bruce's shoulders in a tight hug as he looked nervously towards the kitchen door.

"You're adopting more kids, Bruce?" Dick repeated, angling his body to be in between Bruce and Bane.

"When did you get here, Dick?" Bruce said, looking somewhat concerned and then outright alarmed as Jason flew into the kitchen.

"Pops!" Jason yelled as Dick immediately cowered behind their father. "This asshole said he was gonna give me an angel as a frenemy bracelet because I died!"

Bruce stared at his resurrected son, who, despite bitching loudly, did not actually look murderous. Yet.

And… Dick was actually giggling a little bit as he ducked behind Bruce.

"I was gonna give myself a dick bracelet," he whined back, though. "Angels are nice. Way better than dicks. Jay's just picking on me," he complained.

Harley, too, was intently watching the brotherly interaction on high alert. Jason huffed loud and long as he walked over to sit beside his wife.

"I get a free pass for picking on you for the rest of your life, asshole," Jason retorted loudly to Dick before slinging his arm over Harley's shoulders and kissing her neck.

"It hurts that you keep calling me an asshole when we both know I'm a dick," Dick mourned with puppy dog eyes.

"You're an asshole _and _a dick, so you can go fuck yourself," Jason snapped back.

Bruce snorted. Harley giggled and even Bane was chuckling.

Jason gave Harley the barest wink out of the corner of his eye and she felt herself start to relax. Brotherly bickering was a hell of a lot better than what she'd been fearing. She glanced over at Babs and saw that the other woman also looked relieved.

"Dick, this is Bane," Bruce said, taking advantage of the lull in the teasing to peel Dick's arms off of his neck.

He rotated his son around to meet his boyfriend, who was looking at the former Boy Wonder a mite more nervously than he had looked when meeting any other members of the family.

"I know Bane," Dick said in a clipped voice. "We kicked his ass together, Bruce. Remember?"

And while Dick didn't look exactly angry, he didn't look exactly friendly, either. Bruce felt his breath catch in his throat. He… hadn't considered the fact that Dick and Babs had been the only ones besides Alfred who were there for him when Bane had broken his back, and through the grueling, long months of recovery, and that not only Dick, but Babs as Batgirl had been by his side when they were finally able to bring down Bane and his rule of Gotham's underworld.

Come to think of it… Babs had barely said two words to Bane so far, Bruce realized with a start. And Dick had downed a rather strong drink and not said much else the night that Bruce had informed his son that he was falling in love with the former villain.

"I deeply regret my actions that led to the necessity of that day," Bane was saying gravely to Dick, who was regarding him suspiciously.

"We regret your actions, too," Babs said to Bane in a tightly controlled voice.

Dick met her eyes and the look that passed between them made Bruce's stomach drop.

"Stay for the rest of the afternoon and for dinner," Bruce heard himself pleading with his two children. "Get to know Bane. He really is different, now," he assured them.

"He'd better be," Dick said evenly, giving Bane a stare that meant business. "Or else Batgirl and Robin will ride again."

"And not on the hood of the Batmobile, I'm guessing?" Harley chirped out brightly.

There was a beat of silence. Then -

"Oh my _God!" "_On the _hood?" _" - in the _Batcave?" _" - does Bruce know?"

Dick and Babs' shocked sputtering left their mouths gaping open wide at Harley, who was cheerfully grinning at them, and at Jason, who was looking very, very smug.

"I found out," Bruce muttered, "after the fact."

"During the fact, Pops," Jason corrected him with a lewd wink.

"Ew!" Babs shrieked.

"Because the cave was locked!" Bruce exclaimed. "Not because I walked in on - oh, ew is right," he groaned. "Why did you have to remind me of that terrible event?" Bruce lamented to Harley.

"Terrible?" Harley beamed at him. "Pretty damn fabulous event, if you ask me," she said saucily.

"Event_s_," Jason corrected her with a self-satisfied smirk.

"_Multiple_ events," Harley sighed in agreement, laying her head back against his shoulder and smiling up at him.

"Oh my god," Barbara muttered under her breath, trying not to laugh and not succeeding very well.

Bane was chuckling softly and rubbing the back of Bruce's neck while Dick merely looked aghast, albeit reluctantly impressed.

"Didn't you and Dickie ever have sex in the Batcave?" Harley asked Babs curiously, causing the woman to blush a deep red.

"No!" she said, ducking her head and refusing to meet Harley's eyes.

"Bruce was fucking terrifying back then," Dick said in total amusement as he seated himself beside his girl.

"And he totally would have caught us. We didn't have Tim the Genius to lock him out," Dick said, correctly surmising who had helped the amorous couple evade blatant discovery.

"Well, Tim's available to you now…" Harley teased with a gleam in her eye.

"No!" Bruce snapped. "Please! Dear God," he moaned. "Leave me _some _pieces of my dignity," he begged. "We turned Bane into Batman, but I draw the line at turning the Batcave into an hourly motel."

Bane chuckled softly from beside him.

"I believe we should keep the notion in the back of our minds, mi amor," he said sweetly.

Bruce turned his head to stare disbelievingly at his boyfriend.

"Should your fortune ever evaporate," Bane explained airily as he waved his fingers through the air, "it is good to know that a reliable source of income remains available to us."

"Yeah, Batsy, I betcha _lots _of people would pay to bang in the Batcave," Harley said encouragingly as she swung her legs against her chair.

"Heroes _and _villains," she said. "And ordinary folks, too!"

"Hell, I bet you could rent it out to porno companies," Jason supplied with a big grin.

Bruce let out a muffled scream and collapsed face down on the table into his arms.

"It would only be a last resort, Bruce," Bane soothed him, rubbing his back. "If Wayne Corp goes under."

Bruce groaned some more.

"I'm going to be demanding all kinds of analysis reports from Lucius first thing in the morning," he muttered, making Dick chuckle.

"Careful, Bruce," his oldest son cautioned him teasingly. "Your CEO will think that Bruce Wayne has been body-swapped."

Bruce managed to chuckle, too, before tiredly lifting his head to regard both Dick and Babs.

"I'm sorry I didn't consider the impact that me dating Bane might have on the two of you," he said wretchedly.

The couple sighed almost in unison and squeezed each other's hands.

"That was a hellish eighteen months of our lives we all went through," Babs said heavily to Bruce. "More so for you, I get it, but we had to watch you suffer and help you with PT and live through the effects that Bane's rule had on Gotham while Batman was obviously out of commission."

Bane looked empathetically distressed and highly regretful, but he kept quiet and let the couple continue.

"Plus, Babs had to put the costume back on when she'd wanted to give it up for good," Dick said. "And go up against Bane, of all people, plus all the other super-villains he'd let out, and she'd been out of the suit for a long time by that point."

"Even though she trained with me while you were recovering and got back into shape, she could have gotten really badly hurt," Dick said. "It's not like we were patrolling when Bane was running Gotham, you know," Dick said. "So she didn't have the benefit of fresh field experience aside from her cop work."

And Jason found his heart softening up towards his brother a tiny bit, because the haunted memories in Dick's eyes as he looked tenderly at Babs, and the concern in his voice over her safety - well, Jason still didn't like how the Dickhead had apparently gotten into the habit of running out on Babs all the time.

But Jason decided that he could begrudgingly admit that yeah, Dick did care about Babs, despite his fucked up actions.

"I know," Bruce said heavily. "I know," he repeated, looking over to meet Barbara's eyes. "I am sorry for that…" he started to say.

"It wasn't _your _fault, Bruce," Babs said pointedly. "Not in the slightest. Bane came to Gotham with an agenda against you and he took you down in the most brutal way possible."

"Yes," Bane said sadly. "I wanted to break the Bat, and I did," he said with great distress.

Bruce made a soft noise of comfort and squeezed Bane's hand. As Bane met his boyfriend's forgiving eyes, Babs glanced at Dick, who was watching the couple as intently as she was.

They sighed.

"I can see that you and Bane are happy together," Babs finally said in as neutral a voice as she could muster. "But - well - me and Dick are going to need some time to get to know him, I think," she said.

"Having gone through what we did with you," Dick said, "we're not meeting you with a blank slate, Bane," he said to his former enemy.

"It's not that we can't forgive you," he said guiltily, because Dick was very much aware that someone whose forgiveness he definitely did not deserve was sitting right across the table from him, "but," Dick tried to explain more earnestly, "we remember you being a certain way."

"And I'm glad if you're different now," he said, " - we both are," Babs interjected and Dick nodded, " - but I think it's going to be hard for us to accept you until we know you as who you've become."

"I understand," Bane said. "And your feelings are both fair and understandable."

"Bane was on Venom before when he did all that, ya know," Harley said in a much more sober tone of voice.

"Yes," Bane sighed. "I was quite out of my mind, I am afraid. Not that it changes the effects that my actions had on your lives, but…"

"How long have you been sober?" Dick asked him with some concern.

"Eighteen months," Bane said.

"Harley helped him detox," Babs murmured quietly to her man.

"What are you doing to stay sober?" Dick pressed Bane, because addiction and sobriety were kind of scary subjects for his father's boyfriend to be wrestling with.

Sobriety was all well and good - great, even - but what if Bane slipped?

"I meditate for an hour twice daily without fail," Bane said, "and pursue a deeper relationship with God on a daily basis. And, I am striving to make amends for my past actions."

"Which is why I came to Gotham, in fact," he said. "I had been tracking my father for quite some time - for revenge, mind you, where he is concerned -" Bane said with suddenly twinkling eyes, making Bruce, at least, smile.

" - but when I heard that my father was planning to bomb Gotham Central, I became especially impassioned to prevent the devastation, as I owed this city amends for the former destruction I wrought upon it as crimelord."

Dick and Babs were listening thoughtfully, and their faces seemed slightly more open as Bane talked, Bruce thought. He hoped, anyway. Harley and Jason had encouraging looks on their face for their friend, and Bruce's heart overflowed with love and gratitude for their support.

"Becoming Batman, it is a means for me to make ongoing amends," Bane was continuing.

"Not only to Bruce," he said, smiling gently at his lover, "but to the city as well," Bane said.

"Also to young Tim," Bane went on, "who bore the brunt of Bruce's descent into darkness that I was responsible for. I am even privileged to make amends to you, Barbara, as you will now benefit from my work as Batman in your role as Police Commissioner," Bane said.

Dick and Babs were slowly nodding and seemed overall pleased with Bane's statement, Bruce noted with relief. Cautious, perhaps, but that was to be expected. Bruce didn't sense direct animosity, though, and if they would give Bane a chance, Bruce was sure that his boyfriend's loving personality and present behavior would eventually win Dick and Babs over.

Bane met his eyes and smiled at him.

"Most of all, I have Bruce," Bane said, leaning over to kiss his boyfriend's shoulder. "Bruce gives me many reasons to stay sober," Bane said peacefully. "As do the children and Alfred. This is a family that I cherish being a part of," Bane said, "and I will do everything in my power to remain worthy of it."

"Well," Dick said after he and Babs met each other's eyes for a minute, "I still feel it's appropriate as the oldest child in the family to tell you that if you ever hurt Bruce - or our family or Gotham - Babs and I will kick your ass for a second time."

"I have no doubt," Bane murmured with a small smile. "In fact, I would welcome it," he said more seriously. "I have no desire to hurt those I love and I find it a comfort to know that you will not allow them to become endangered."

"By you or anyone," Babs said, quirking her eyebrow up at Harley, who began giggling.

"Damn straight, sis!" she said, reaching a fist out to bump.

"Are ya with us, Brucie?" Harley asked him, stretching her fist across the table.

"Yeah, Bruce. Does family come first?" Babs said, dangling her fist next to Harley's.

Bruce looked around the table at Jason's grinning eyes, Bane's warmly shining ones, and Dick's slightly mystified ones - oh, _that _was interesting…

"Before we bump fists," Bruce said, leaning back in his chair and stretching his legs out in front of him, "I do believe my eldest son, the self-proclaimed family enforcer, would love to know how Babs and Harley stood up for Steph last week."

"You did what?" Dick said, turning to the two women with a puzzled look.

Babs's smile started to falter.

"Bruce almost dropped Alfred's knife on the floor!" Harley tattled loudly and with enormous glee.

"Pops!" Jason whistled, his eyes going wide in amusement as Dick gasped and Barbara's hands flew over her mouth.

"You didn't say that _you _almost _dropped it!" _Babs screeched to Bruce in horror. "You made it sound like it was Harley's fault!"

Dick, meanwhile, had started to hyperventilate and was fanning himself frantically as Bruce tried to comfort him.

"It's ok, son," Bruce was saying. "I _didn't _drop it. Everything's fine."

"Finger - fingerprints," Dick gasped out.

"Yes, I wiped them," Bruce reassured him as Dick continued to pant and wheeze.

Harley cackled and got to her feet.

"This is our exit," she smirked to Jason. "And I wanna hear all about this glorious event that sends Batman into a fucking panic at the mere mention of knives."

"It's good," Jason assured her, laughing as his wife pulled him out of the room, waggling the fingers in her free hand at Bane, who waved back with a smile.

They were quite the family, Bane thought to himself as Babs kept arguing with Bruce about whose fault it was and how he should have known better and Dick tried to get his breathing under control.

And they were his.

* * *

_A/N We are getting very close to the end! This will wrap somewhere around Chapter 50, give or take. _

_I'm going to do my best to update next week, but I'm trying to get my taxes finished, so no promises, it may update slightly late. _

_"A Light in the Dark" is going to bi-weekly updates due to the number of other projects I'm currently working on (good news, that means "Mourning Mother's Day" will update more frequently, as well as more short stories coming out) but I am going to try hard to stick to the weekly updates for Red Knight since we are so very close to the end. _

_Thanks for reading! Comments are appreciated_


	43. Chapter 43

_**Chapter 43**_

"And then Bruce and Tals had to upgrade the whole kitchen to Al's very detailed specifications, with all these custom ordered appliances and brands from England and France -"

"I have noted that the kitchen is much more modernized than the rest of the manor," Damian said, the wrinkles in his brow smoothing out with understanding as Jason spoke to Harley and the enraptured Batlings, who had abandoned their workouts to sit in a circle on the mats in the ballroom turned gym while Jason finally explained the mystery of Alfred's knives to the clueless group at Harley's eager prompting.

Damian, of course, was curled up close to his baba, who had Harley against him, and Steph was leaning into Tim's side with his arm wrapped around her shoulders as they listened enraptured to Jason's gleeful description of the kitchen disaster which-was-forbidden-to-speak-of-in-Wayne-Manor.

"Grandfather was wise to choose extortion as his means of exacting retribution from Mother and Father for their careless actions towards his kitchen equipment," Damian said with a sage little nod, causing Tim and Steph to snicker, but good-heartedly.

"I am only surprised that Grandfather did not employ his strategy sooner but rather suffered in silence for years when cursed with inferior tools for the execution of his craft," Damian said with a certain amount of puzzlement on his face.

"Well, I think Al made do with what he had up until your mom fucked with his knives because he didn't want to change the kitchen from how it had looked when Pops' parents were still alive," Jason explained kindly. "The last thing Al would ever want to do is make Pops sadder about losing his parents by erasing parts of the manor that Pops had memories of them living in."

"Alfred must have really been pissed off, then," Tim snorted.

"Oh, he was," Jason chuckled with a fondly reminiscent grin.

"I can't believe he threatened to go back to England," Steph giggled. "Bruce must have been shitting himself."

"You know, when I told Brucie that him and Talia were normal for having fights as a couple, I did not think he was referring to them throwing knives at each other," Harley said thoughtfully.

"I'm gonna have to correct him on that. Throwing knives. Very abnormal," the former psychologist said, shaking her head.

"Only Talia ever threw stuff," Jason laughed in Bruce's defense.

"Tals was a firecracker," Jason said. "Pops had all that Batman control and self-discipline but Talia, man," he smiled.

"She'd been raised by crazy assassins and it showed. No offense, kiddo," Jason added to Damian, reaching out to ruffle his hair.

"None taken," little Damian replied, completely unperturbed. "My upbringing is why I must be homeschooled until I have mastered the art of concealing my superior status compared to that of other children my age. Father said that I must learn to 'blend in,'" Damian said calmly.

"Right," Jason said, sliding his eyes sideways to meet Harley's amused ones.

"Clearly my Mother never learned such skills," Damian said, frowning to himself. "It appears that Grandfather Ra's failed her in that respect."

"In many respects," Jason said softly, with grief, looking back down at Damian, who met his eyes and nodded somberly.

"Didn't Bruce get upset when Talia threw things at him?" Steph asked Jason. "That's pretty abusive," she said, frowning in concern as she snuggled deeper into Tim's shoulder.

"I would never throw things at you," she whispered up to her boyfriend.

"Only at other people," he grinned back at her.

"Exactly," Steph said with a content smile. "Criminals. School bullies. People like that," she said, raising her head to press a kiss to Tim's cheek.

"Yeah," Jason admitted, dragging the word out. "I ain't gonna say Talia was healthy. But she only ever threw shit at Pops, not at me and Dick or Alfred, and she only ever threw things she knew he could dodge. He was Batman, after all."

"Still," Tim said, his eyes wide and grim and his mouth tight. "Knives?" he asked dubiously.

"The cookie sheet was right there on the counter," Jason pointed out. "Tals knew Pops would either use it or duck and dodge or something. And me and Dick weren't right behind Bruce, it wasn't like we would have gotten hit by a knife when he dodged."

"Pops would've said it was good training for us, anyway," Jason snorted, "to learn how to dodge knives."

"You all had a fucked up childhood," Harley said, staring up at Jason in wonder from her head's cozy position on his shoulder.

Jason sighed.

"No arguments about that from me, babe," he said with a trace of bitter regret as he looked down at his wife with unspoken words in his eyes that Harley understood perfectly.

"But my childhood wasn't nearly as fucked up as little D's," Jason said honestly, reaching his other arm out to wrap around Damian's tiny shoulders so he could pull his pseudo-son closer into his side for a tender snuggle.

Damian sighed as well and frowned as he allowed himself to be cuddled by his baba.

"Mother sounds very different the way you describe her," the boy said to Jason, looking up at him dolefully.

"She was," Jason admitted quietly. "Before Ra's destroyed her with the Lazarus Pit, she was a really good person, little D," he said.

"I mean, she was explosive and over the top, for sure, but she never held a grudge and she'd always make up with Pops pretty quick. And she loved him so much, and me and Dick and Al, too," he said.

"And you, habibi," Jason said, squeezing Damian's shoulders. "Remember I told you how much she'd talk to you when she was pregnant, and tell you stories about Pops, and she'd sing to you and me at night…" Jason said, his voice trailing off as he fell backwards into his memories.

Harley looked up at him with sorry eyes and reached a gentle hand up to caress his cheek.

"You still with me, Jay?" she murmured with some concern, peering at him with psychologist eyes.

He blinked a few times before meeting his wife's gaze and giving her a tiny nod.

"I'm ok," Jason said in a voice rough with tears.

"I just miss her," he said brokenly. "Who she used to be. And what she tried to do for me, when I came back to life. Talia's heart was in the right place and she didn't expect her father to be so abusive towards her when she came back to the League."

"But she should have," Steph said with a confused look as Tim nodded his agreement. "Ra's must have abused Talia her whole life like they abused Damian."

"Yeah, but Ra's basically ran a cult," Harley pointed out.

"Talia'd been brainwashed from childhood into thinking Ra's was right about everything," Harley said. "She never would have taken Jay to him, I don't think, if she hadn't truly believed that Ra's would take good care of him and let her go back to Bruce."

"Ra's actually approved of Bruce," Jason explained to his siblings. "He thought Batman was a good mate for his daughter. So Talia wasn't expecting that Ra's would force her and Batman's baby to stay with the League."

"And especially not for him to do what he did to her after Damian was born," Jason mumbled, his eyes watering up again while his family looked on sympathetically.

"The mom you knew, habibi?" Jason said to Damian after taking a minute to get his emotions back under control.

"That wasn't Talia. That was an empty shell propped up by your grandfather's programming."

Damian nodded, still looking sad, but slightly comforted, too, Tim thought as he watched his little brother.

Unless he was just projecting his own feelings onto Damian.

Because Tim would have loved to learn that his cold, distant parents had once loved him beyond measure but had been broken by outside forces beyond their control.

Jack and Janet Drake weren't abusive, exactly. Tim would freely admit that. But they'd always been so icy and remote, physically as well as emotionally.

Always traveling, leaving him with nannies. Sure, they'd call him on the phone according to a very precise schedule when they were gone, but that wasn't the same as having them with him at home, was it?

Especially when they mostly talked about themselves and their travels instead of taking an interest in Tim's life, in what he was doing while they were gone and in who he was as a person beyond being their son and heir.

Jack Drake had needed (well, wanted, but Jack and Janet very firmly believed 'needed') an heir to leave Drake Industries to, so Janet Drake had dutifully produced Tim and then, her maternal work being done, she had gone on to live her life exactly as she'd pleased while meticulously assigning her son to the impersonal care of highly vetted, well-paid professionals like any responsible and wealthy mother might do.

For all that Bruce was an honest-to-God mess when Tim had first confronted him with his identity as Batman and then insisted that Bruce make him into Robin, Bruce even back in his darkest days had been a thousand times more affectionate and more parental to Tim than his own parents had ever been.

In those first few months, Bruce would barely communicate with him beyond growls and grunts, and once he let Tim patrol, he'd almost always start to go too far in beating down the criminals they caught until he'd abruptly notice Robin's distressed eyes on him and guiltily halt his assaults, but despite all of that, Tim still thought that Bruce was the best dad imaginable.

He'd actually spend time with Tim, for one thing. Hours and hours of time spent together training on a daily basis, and eventually patrolling, too.

Tim couldn't remember his own dad ever spending as much as a full hour in the same room as him and Jack had never spent more than a few minutes - if that - in fully focused, one-on-one interactions with his son.

Not to mention that between his dad's work schedule and his parents' busy social lives, even when Jack and Janet weren't off traveling, it was rare for Tim to cross paths with one of his parents for a full seven days in a row.

So the hours upon hours of daily one-on-one time that Bruce devoted to him, even though it was mostly working out and hardly any talking? Tim ate up the attention like the starving child he was and worked all the harder to master his combat skills because of it.

And Bruce might not be wordy with his praise, but he'd give Tim little nods of approval when the teen did something well, or he'd clap a warm hand on Tim's shoulder after a long workout or a hard patrol and Tim would stand a little taller, knowing that he'd pleased his mentor.

Conversely, the highest praise that Tim ever recalled receiving from either one of his parents was his mother's tired once-over of him and sniffed "You'll do," before dragging him into the limo to attend some ghastly fundraiser that required the adorable presence of The Drake Heir to help drum up donations.

For the Gotham Orphanage, Tim thought it had been, or maybe something to do with foster care. His parents had paraded him around all night as they rubbed elbows with Gotham's elite, and the only thing that had made the tedium bearable was the fact that one or both of his parents had had their arms around his shoulders the entire night.

It was for show, of course… but it had been nice. Quite nice.

Afterwards, Tim would sometimes find himself longing for a repeat of the dull event so that he could have another opportunity to squeeze a few precious drops of affection from his parents, who habitually treated physical contact with their son like the one commodity that the Drake fortune simply could not afford.

Aside from praise, that was.

Words of praise were even more rare in the Drake household than hugs, as Tim's sole fishing attempt revealed the morning after his first middle school report card had arrived.

It had been a rare day because his father was home for breakfast, sipping coffee at the dining table with the newspaper forming an imposing barrier between him and his timidly proud son.

"I made the Dean's List," Tim had hesitantly ventured to say to his father, unfolding his report card from his pocket and sliding it across the table and just under the edge of the latest stock quotes into his father's line of vision.

"I expected no less," Jack had said to him, the slight dip of the rustling newspaper revealing his raised eyebrows at his son's needless disturbance.

His father had cast a quick, sharp glance at the creased report card before carelessly thrusting it back at the now lip-biting Tim without a word of praise.

"If your grades had slipped, we'd be getting you a tutor," Jack had said in a bored, matter-of-fact voice, disappearing back into the Wall Street Times and his dark roast.

Tim had silently sighed and never brought his excellent grades up again.

Or brought anything else up, for that matter.

Like the fact that despite his parents' every hope and dream for the future of Drake Industries hanging on him like he was some kind of golden goose, his father never once took him into the office with him, or explained the business to him, or bothered to involve him or educate him in its running at all.

Bruce, by contrast, despite his foreboding manner and overwhelming disdain for conversation, never let an opportunity slide to teach Tim anything and everything that might one day assist his future Robin.

They'd be sitting together at the Batcomputer, the Bat silently working on a case while Tim watched over his shoulder, when a particular clue would remind Bruce that Tim had yet to learn about a certain arcane samurai tradition and he'd be pulling up files on Tim's screen and silently jabbing his finger at them without taking his eyes from his case notes.

And Tim would find himself sucked down rabbit hole after rabbit hole into a wealth of knowledge more precise and refined than any library or website could hope to accumulate for his eager mind to feast on.

As time slipped away and Tim would continue to read, his eyes glazed over with fascination and his chin resting on his hands, he would sometimes find himself startled out of his trance by a hair ruffle from Bruce paired with an approving gleam in his mentor's eye.

Approving and even, maybe, Tim would sometimes dare to hope, affectionate.

Alfred, of course, made no bones about his affection for Tim, constantly fussing over him like a mother hen and doling out warm and frequent hugs that nourished Tim's soul.

Not only that, but the butler insisted that he, Tim, and Bruce eat dinners together as a family whenever Tim's parents were out of town, which was often, and despite Bruce's social reticence, or maybe due to Alfred's easy comfort with it, conversation at the table never faltered, even though Bruce's contributions were mostly affirmative or negative grunts.

Once in a while, Dick and Babs would even come over for dinner, too - when Dick and Bruce weren't at each other's throats over the offense of the month, that was. Tim had been greatly surprised but inordinately pleased to find himself eagerly welcomed by the couple from the moment that he began training with Bruce as if he was a true brother to them, even before he'd become Bruce's legal ward.

Dick had startled not only Tim but Bruce when he offered to assist with Tim's training and Tim couldn't have been more delighted to be mentored in advanced acrobatic techniques and tricks from his one-time idol in The Flying Graysons.

Nightwing preferred to work with Robin in Bludhaven versus in the Batcave, though, which Batman went along with surprisingly easily, given how controlling he was in other aspects of Tim's training.

It gave Tim the sense that Dick's mentorship of him was a fragile olive branch between the original Robin and his Batman that neither Dick nor Bruce wanted to risk breaking by stepping on each other's toes in both trying to coach Tim at once.

Tim was grateful for Dick's additional training, though, beyond measure; especially as his lithe form packed less of a punch than Bruce's packed and beefy brawn. Dick taught Tim how to use his acrobatic skills for added force in his attacks and it was Dick who suggested to Bruce that Tim take up the bo staff as a primary weapon, which extended both his reach and his power.

And Babs was simply the greatest, coolest sister ever, Tim thought. She and Bruce never fought, for one thing, and she alone could pull smiles out of the grumpy Bat. Babs was always full of smiles for Tim, too, and eagerly interested in hearing every detail of his life, even the boring school bits that Tim never wanted to bother Alfred with.

Babs had hung up the Batgirl suit long before meeting Tim, but as a fast-rising star of the GCPD, she regularly cajoled the CSI unit into letting Tim observe them in the lab ('he's thinking about studying criminology in college,' she'd cheerfully lied) and shadowing had quickly turned into hands on assistance once the techs caught on to Tim's brilliant smarts and rapid aptitude for learning.

Consequently, Tim found himself spending a few afternoons a week learning exciting new detecting techniques that Bruce would later test him on at home.

Home.

That was what Wayne Manor had become to Tim long before his parents' upsetting decision to move to France for a full three years so that Jack could personally oversee a new branch of Drake Industries.

His parents' prolonged absence would have stung, despite their frequent travels, but Tim was horrified when his parents informed him, albeit reluctantly and with poorly hidden dismay on their parts, that they could not leave their minor son unsupervised with only a nanny for three years so they must therefore take Tim to Europe with them.

Bruce, the morose, anti-social, silently brooding Batman, had stunned Tim by rallying himself into his full-Brucie persona such as he hadn't put on since before Jason's death and had promptly paid a visit to the Drakes.

"Come, now, Jack, surely you're not too old to remember how important high school is to a young man's social development?" Bruce had cajoled his father over mint juleps in the Drakes' ornately decorated drawing room with ceiling-high windows that overlooked an elegantly manicured formal garden that neither Jack nor Janet Drake had ever set foot in.

"You expect Tim to date a European girl?" Brucie had scoffed with disgust, causing Janet and Jack to give each other looks of deep consternation.

No, they had not considered the limited pool of who their heir could date if they moved him to France just as he came into his upper teenaged years. A European heiress - or accidental baby mama - would be quite problematic for Drake Industries, their eyes said to each other.

Stockholders would not be pleased.

Expand the company to Europe, yes, certainly. But to leave its future in the hands of a potential European daughter-in-law or grandchildren?

Brucie was continuing to babble voraciously about yearbooks, clubs, and proms while the Drakes silently communicated with each other their growing persuasion to take dear Brucie up on his generous offer to become Timothy's temporary legal guardian, but Bruce caught their full attention once again when he mentioned college.

"Do you think Ivy League schools will want to see a European high school on Tim's transcript?" Brucie was imploring them in a scandalized tone of voice.

"Lot of socialist rot over there in those curriculums, I've no doubt," Brucie sniffed. "And admissions officers will feel the same," the Wayne billionaire with not a college degree between him and his sons intoned knowingly, drawing his eyebrows together as he stared Jack and Janet Drake down.

"Gotham Prep is renowned for the percentage of its students that are accepted into top-notch universities," Bruce pointed out. "You don't want to jeopardize Tim's future chances of enrolling at a suitable college, do you?" he pleaded.

No. No, they did not.

Not to say that Jack couldn't simply make a large donation and get Tim into whatever school he chose, but those things had a way of coming out these days, and wouldn't it look far better for the Drake Industries Heir to be accepted to Harvard or Yale on his own merits rather than on Daddy's checkbook?

"You know, I don't believe we had considered all of the ramifications of taking Timothy with us," Jack said slowly to Bruce.

"Well, Tim's your only child, and I've had two," Brucie said consolingly.

"Not that I could get Dick to go to college," he sighed, smilingly indulgently at his son's whim to become a police officer, which Jack and Janet Drake dared not mock.

It would be tasteless, after all, to insinuate that one's… _background_…. had anything to do with their lack of ambition and crass choice of profession.

"But I know Jason would have gone to a top school," Bruce was saying, his voice faltering a bit with genuine grief as his eyes dropped to his lap.

"Jason was very academically inclined," Bruce murmured.

Janet cooed her sympathy over his lost son, reaching over to gently pat Bruce's hand with more affection and warmth than Tim could ever recall receiving from her. Even at the fundraising gala.

"Of course your boy was gifted, old man," Jack was harrumphing to Bruce.

"No doubt he would have been running Wayne Enterprises by now, eh?" the CEO of Drake Industries said in an attempt at comfort, even though Jack personally thought that Mr. Freeze would thaw out before a boy from the Narrows would run a billion dollar corporation.

But the lad had died; tragic accident, that, no harm in buttering the boy up a little bit to poor old Brucie.

"You wouldn't mind staying with Bruce, son?" Jack asked Tim, glancing over at his heir for the first time, who had been sitting silent and forgotten in an upholstered velvet armchair in the corner of the room.

"I'd be glad to live with Bruce," Tim said honestly. "I'd really like to stay here and go to high school at Gotham Prep. And I definitely don't want to ruin my chances of getting into college," he said very earnestly, latching onto what he aptly perceived as his parents' primary concern for his future.

"Well, then," Janet said, meeting Jack's eyes before nodding and smiling big and broad and toothy at Bruce.

"We'd be very grateful, Brucie, if you would be such a darling as to take our dear Timothy in while we're gone. We'll rest easy knowing that our boy is in the hands of such a good and experienced father," Janet had oozed.

Yeah, Bruce was far superior to Tim's own parents, the teenager thought with a pang as Jason tried to comfort Damian over Talia.

But despite the hollow place in Tim's heart where his parents' love should have abided, there was a fullness in his heart now that hadn't once existed.

The last month had brought an abundance of love and additional family into Tim's life, from Bruce's healing journey and increased involvement in their lives, to Bane's arrival and constant parental warmth, to the weird but oddly wonderful addition of Jason and Harley to the Batfamily, to finally, finally getting to date Steph, the Batgirl of his dreams.

Life was looking up for all of them, Tim thought, as he looked around the circle at his brothers and sister-in-law and girlfriend. Maybe there would always be some tears to shed over the past, but the present was beginning to feel pretty damn good.

* * *

_A/N We're back to once a week updates until the end! I'm expecting the story to wrap up around Ch. 50, so not much left to go. _


	44. Chapter 44

_A/N Trigger warning: Mentions of past incidents of childhood sexual abuse (not graphically described; events that have previously been referenced in the story). Disclaimer: Do not kill anyone for any reason. Killing is both illegal and wrong. Don't do it. This is a work of fiction for entertainment purposes only. _

* * *

_**Chapter 44**_

Jason had barely finished filling the Batlings and Harley in on That-Which-Must-Not-Be-Discussed-in-Wayne-Manor when Damian stood and briskly nodded his head.

"We thank you for the information, baba, but now we must resume our training," the little boy said, glaring ferociously at Tim and Steph when they failed to immediately jump (or hobble, in Steph's case) to their feet.

Tim sighed and reluctantly stood before reaching down to help Steph up, while Jason and Harley exchanged amused glances and bit back giggles at Damian's determined ways.

Steph was midway up when she suddenly gasped. Tim jumped.

"Is it your ankle? Are you hurt?" he asked his girlfriend in a semi-panic.

"No, no," Steph said reassuringly, but distractedly.

"Jason, could you put the lasers in my Batcowl now?" Steph asked him. "Since you're leaving tomorrow?" she pleaded, making Tim grin.

Damian released his tiny hands from his hips and gave Jason an assessing look.

"That would be most useful, baba, so that Batgirl can resume more practical combat training while her ankle continues to heal," Bat-Mite said.

"I can do lasers," Jason cheerfully grinned, causing Steph to squeal and give happy one-footed hops up and down on the mats while hanging onto Tim's hand for balance.

"I can put them in your crown, too, babe, while I'm at it," Jason said, glancing down at Harley by his side.

"I'm sure Pops has got all the tools and equipment I need down in the Batcave and it'll save me scrounging my own stuff from around the safehouses," Jason said, looking pleased at the idea of less work.

Harley, too, squealed and jumped, clapping her hands.

"You're the best husband ever!" she declared, pecking Jay's lips. "I'll go get my crown from the kitchen and meet you down there."

"You and I must still train, Timothy Drake," Damian said insistently.

"Oh!" Harley said, an idea occurring to her. "Why don't I work with you two down in the Batcave on some acrobatic combat moves while Jason and Steph get the lasers sorted," she said to Damian and Tim.

Damian beamed at her.

"That would be most excellent, Harley Hood," he said.

"Perhaps Dick and Babs could come train with us as well," the boy said. "Since baba reported to me that he and Dick Grayson have reconciled their differences," Damian added slyly, peering intently at Jason for his reaction.

Harley, too, turned to gauge Jason's reaction to Damian's bold proposition.

Jason gave Damian a look that said he knew exactly what his son was up to, but he said to Harley nonetheless, "Why don't you ask them, baby, when you go get your crown?"

"If Dickie has stopped hyperventilating," Jason added with a snicker, which Tim and Steph shared, having been gleefully informed of Dick's reaction to Harley's horrifying and nearly disastrous treatment of Alfred's knives.

"You sure about having Dick come down, too?" Harley said quietly to her husband, though.

"Yeah," Jason groaned. "Little D is right. We all gotta start trying to get along and I'm gonna be working on the lasers anyway. I ought to be able to survive being in the same room as him. Even if it _is _the Batcave," Jason sighed.

"Besides," he smirked a second later, "it'll give you a chance to kick Dick's ass for all his shit."

"Ooh!" Harley said with excitement. "I like that idea!" she beamed, throwing her arms around Jay's neck to give him a sloppy kiss before scampering out of the room to lure her victim to his demise.

"Come on, kiddos," Jason said to his younger siblings, good-naturedly bending down to scoop Damian and Osito up to ride on his shoulders as they left the gym and headed towards the hidden Batcave entrance in the conservatory.

"Ah! Miss Harley," Alfred said as Harley ran into the kitchen, coming to a sliding halt in front of the table where Dick and Babs and Bruce were sitting as calmly and innocently as possible in front of the butler while Bane looked on in secret amusement.

"Heya, Alfred!" Harley sing-songed, giving him a big hug, which made Dick's eyelid twitch, before she moved to pick up the gift bag with her crown from the shelf where Alfred had neatly arranged their new uniforms in anticipation of tonight's patrol.

"Jay's gonna work on putting the lasers in mine and Steph's gear down in the Batcave," Mrs. Todd announced to the seated group, "and I'm gonna work with Tim and Damian on acrobatic attacks to keep Jay company," she said, ignoring Bruce's beleaguered sighing to Bane about the fact of the lasers.

"Damian thought you two might want to join in with some pointers and sparring," Harley said to Dick and Babs.

"Oh," Dick said, a little startled but looking pleased to be asked.

"Sure," he said. "That would be fun. I should have some sweats down in the lockers," he said.

"You can borrow some of mine that are down there," Harley offered to Babs. "They're clean, Alfred's been doing all my laundry for me this week," she beamed at the butler, who smiled fondly back at her.

"You have no idea how proud I was, Miss Harley," Alfred said, "when you informed me that Master Jason had taken over the responsibility of your household chores. Such a joy to have a grandson who has retained my teaching and become a well-domesticated adult," Alfred tutted, giving Dick, who was blushing, a very significant look.

Babs giggled.

"Maybe you should give Dick a refresher course, Alfred," she said teasingly, wrapping her arms around Dick's upper arm and laying her head on his shoulder as she looked up at him playfully.

Dick returned his girlfriend's gaze with a surprising amount of tenderness.

"Maybe Alfred should," Dick said gently. "There's a lot I need to do better with at home," he admitted, making Babs' eyes open wide before getting misty.

Dick leaned in and gave Babs a soft kiss that spoke volumes in its apologies, and she found her stomach spinning in the dizzy, happy way that it used to, long ago, when her Robin kissed his Batgirl.

Maybe… maybe things really were going to get better between her and Dick in a lasting way, Babs found her heart singing hopefully.

"We'll join you all downstairs in a few minutes," Bruce was saying to Harley when Babs came up for air, and Harley nodded, politely waiting for Dick and Babs to stand up to accompany her before making her way to the Batcave.

"So," Harley said a lot more sharply as the trio walked through Wayne Manor, raising her eyebrows at Dick.

"I haven't had a chance to hear about your little chat from Jay yet," the feisty brunette said. "Is it going to be a good report?" she asked Dick with a look of menace in her eyes that Dick found truly unnerving.

She might be his sister-in-law now, and they might have had a lot of fun together last week sliding down the banisters as a family, and Harley might come off as playful and silly ninety-eight percent of the time, but Dick suddenly found himself remembering just how many people she'd killed in her lifetime, and he swallowed.

Maybe Bruce was right to be glad that Harley was on their side now.

Well, she was on Bruce's side, anyway.

But as far as Dick was concerned, Dick had a feeling that Harley's approval or enmity was entirely up to Jason.

"I think we had a good talk," Dick said carefully.

He sighed.

"I know I can't make up for what I did to Jason back when we were kids," he told Harley. "But I feel like I finally understand it all, now. And can admit to it," Dick said, rubbing his neck uncomfortably as Babs silently listened, as curious as Harley as to how the confrontation had played out.

Harley gave a non-committal Batgrunt which did little to alleviate Dick's tension, although it did amuse him to see how much Bruce had rubbed off on her after only a week in the Manor.

"Actually, maybe you could help me with something," Dick said to Harley as they walked.

"Jason said you thought my trauma was affecting how I felt about him when we were kids. And how I feel maybe even now," Dick said.

Harley sighed.

"I already told Babs, I can't therapize family members," Harley said.

"It ain't ethical," she said and, what she tactfully chose not to say was that in Dick's case, she had a less-than-zero interest in being his support person and emotional guide.

"No, no," Dick said quickly. "I wasn't thinking that," he said, making Harley's eyebrow go up.

"I was wondering if you thought therapy would help me, though," he said, "and if you maybe knew someone good I could go to."

"Oh!" Harley said, genuinely surprised and maybe a little tiny bit impressed, too, that the Dickhead was sincere about changing.

"Yeah," Harley said. "Yeah, I'll look some people up for ya who I used to know. You're gonna need a trauma specialist," she said, "because trauma work is a whole different set of skills and techniques than other types of counseling."

"Ok," Dick said. "Well, I'd be grateful for any advice you could give me about who to see. And…" he trailed off for a minute, looking down at Babs with a little embarrassment.

"What?" Babs said in confusion.

"I mean," Dick said hesitantly, "maybe we could go for relationship counseling too, if you wanted," he mumbled.

"If you think it would help us," he said to his girlfriend, who found her throat getting tight.

"I'd like that," she said roughly, wrapping her arms around Dick's chest.

"Jason suggested it to me this afternoon, actually," she said, laughing a little bit as she wiped her eyes. "He was kind of appalled we'd never thought to go before."

"I didn't think our problems were that bad," Dick sighed.

"I know," Babs agreed with him.

"Hey!" she said playfully to Harley, who had a hand on her shaking head and was doing her best to avoid being a bad example by snarking at them.

"We're not all therapists, you know?" Babs said. "It's hard for ordinary people to realize these things sometimes."

"I get it," Harley sighed. "Well," she said thoughtfully. "I've seen it so often that I get that it happens. But why people suffer in misery so long before reaching out for help, that I don't get," the psychiatrist said.

"Bruce didn't believe in therapy, in my case," Dick chuckled. "So I can blame my doubts about it on him."

"I thought it was only for people who were really depressed or suicidal or thinking about getting divorced," Babs shrugged. "I felt like we were too ordinary and too ok in our relationship to need it."

"Despite the fact that you never got any conflicts resolved, ever, because Dick kept running to Bludhaven," Harley said, not even sarcastically, but genuinely curious.

"Well, we weren't mean to each other," Babs said philosophically.

"Except that one morning," she growled at Dick, who smiled sheepishly at her before kissing her neck.

"I know," he said. "That was bad. But I think the rest of the time," he said, redirecting his attention to Harley, "we just figured we'd been through a lot of stressful stuff over the last ten years and things would get better on their own once life settled down."

"Yeah, well, a little professional help can go a long way towards making things get better way faster and before they're permanently broken," Harley said.

"I'm glad you're ready to get some treatment. Both of you," she added, as Dick and Babs held hands and smiled at her while she plunked out the secret code for the Batcave entrance on the piano.

Downstairs, Damian and Tim were already sparring on the practice mats while Osito looked on, Bat-Mite having insisted that time not be wasted while waiting for their older siblings to arrive.

Steph was spinning herself around in circles in one of the Batcomputer chairs by using one of her crutches as a floor paddle.

"Where's Jay?" Harley asked curiously when she, Dick, and Babs emerged from the elevator.

"Poking around through Bruce's tools and stuff looking for what he needs for the lasers," Steph said placidly as her face spun by in a whirl.

"Someone's getting bored with her broken ankle, huh," Babs said sympathetically, waiting until Steph's rotations slowed before bending to give her sister a hug, which Steph warmly returned.

"I heard school got cancelled all week for you and Tim," Babs whispered in her ear and Steph grinned and winked.

"Hi, Dick," Steph said cheerfully as he bent next to give her a big hug.

"Hi, sis," Dick said, squeezing her tight.

He frowned as he straightened up.

"Wait, so what happened at school this week?" he asked her innocently. "Bruce said something earlier about Babs and Harley sticking up for you?"

The dynamic duo's eyes went wide, again, behind Dick's back and Babs began frantically shaking her head at Steph while Harley's eyes darted around the cave for a spare batarang to distract Dick with.

"Oh, man, Bruce," Steph said, shaking her head. "I heard he almost destroyed one of Alfred's knives today!" she said dramatically while Babs gave her a big thumbs up, although Babs also shot Harley a somewhat cross glare for daring to place one of Alfred's knives in peril.

Dick's breathing got a little shallow as Jason rounded the corner with a box crammed full of tools and laser parts, overhearing Steph's last remark.

"Oh, shit," Jason said with a big wink for Harley and Babs and a horror struck tone for Dick.

"That would've been a disaster!" Jason said fearfully. "Remember when Talia ruined Al's knives, Dickie?" Jason said with a shiver.

"Jason!" Dick gasped.

"I wonder if Alfred would've quit again if Bruce destroyed a knife?" Jason mused, rubbing his chin thoughtfully after dumping his box down by the computer so he could do just that.

"_We are not allowed to talk about that day!" _Dick hissed at Jason.

"Really?" Jason said, looking appropriately clueless. "Since when?"

"Since always!" Dick yelped.

"I don't remember that," Jason hmm'd as Babs bit the inside of her cheek so she wouldn't laugh.

"Are you sure Al didn't make that rule up after I died?" Jason asked Dick innocently while Harley held her silently shaking sides.

"Gah!" Dick yelled, pulling on his hair. "Don't talk about it! Ever! Not ever! We cannot have a repeat of that experience!"

"What experience?" Steph asked curiously, her eyes getting all big.

"What happened, Dick? What did Talia do? Tellmetellmetellme," she demanded. "Pleeeeease? Pretty please? I wanna know!"

"I'm going to go spar!" Dick shrieked, backing away from the group with his hands over his ears.

"I had no part of this conversation. None!" he swore, before turning and bolting towards Tim and Damian at full speed.

"Good one, Steph!" Harley crowed, reaching out to high five the teen. "I have taught you well this week," the Queen of Gotham sighed with contentment.

"Yeah, you have," Steph grinned at her. "How you gonna keep getting out of telling Dick, though, Babs?" she asked the older woman.

"I'll distract him with sex," Babs said completely seriously.

Jason chortled and Harley cackled with glee.

"Remember that tip," Babs winked at Steph. "When you get there in your relationship," she added.

"No," Harley told Steph, giggling nonetheless. "That is a terrible tip, Steph," Harley said.

"This is why you are going to therapy, Barbara Gordon," Harley scolded her. "Hiding things from your partner and using sex to manipulate your relationship, very unhealthy," Harley said, despite snickering.

"What?" Babs pouted, putting her hands on her hips. "You're the one who distracted Dick first from learning the truth."

"That was to save my own skin, sister," Harley declared. "Bruce was throwing us both under the bus."

"Yeah," Jason chimed in. "My woman had the good sense to marry someone who fully supports her worldview of siccing Deadshot on school bullies. If Dick doesn't support you in that aspect of your relationship, maybe he's not the one for you," Jason deadpanned.

"Shut up!" Babs laughed. "We're gonna start therapy. I'll bring that up as our first issue."

"Dear Dr. Todd," Jason began spouting earnestly to Harley with folded hands in front of his chest, "my partner resents me for protecting our little sister from sexual harassment. Tell him how wrong he is," Jason mimicked.

"Exactly," Babs nodded.

"You're gonna be a therapy champion," Harley said, rolling her eyes.

"Come on. Let's get you some workout clothes," she said, dragging Babs off towards the locker room, but only after bouncing up to Jay to give him a romantic smooch and getting rewarded with a sexy swat to her ass as she led Babs away.

Jason grinned at Steph as he sat down next to her and began pulling parts and wires out of his box of gear.

"Can I ask you a question?" Steph said to him after a minute of his tinkering and her watching.

"Sure," Jason said, glancing up at her. "What's up, Blondie?"

"Harley said I should maybe think about telling Bruce about… you know," she mumbled, not quite sure what to call it.

"Your assault?" Jason gently guessed, and Steph nodded.

"Do you want to tell him?" Jason asked her.

Steph sighed.

"Kind of," she admitted, chewing on her lip. "But I feel really scared and embarrassed to bring it up and I don't know how."

"For what it's worth," Jason said, "me and him finally talked about my abuse and he actually handled it surprisingly well. Aside from the fact that he'd always suspected it had happened but didn't believe in therapy," Jason said wryly.

"Or believe in forcing me to talk about it, which I guess was sort of good, because I wouldn't have wanted to talk about it back then. But he should've gotten me a therapist and then I would've been able to talk about it."

Steph smiled at him.

"I never in a million years would've guessed that B didn't believe in therapy," she teased. "Mister sits in the shadows and dresses up like a bat, he's like the therapy poster child."

"Yeah, the advertising poster," Jason snorted, making Steph giggle.

"Do you sometimes feel the urge to dress up as a giant bat?" Steph said in a very serious radio announcer voice. "Why not try therapy before trying on your first pair of bat wings?" she parodied.

"Because Batwings are more fun," Bruce said from behind them, making Jason and Steph both jump and whirl in their seats.

They relaxed, though, when they saw the teasing gleam in Bruce's eye and the easy smile on his face, which was becoming more and more of a regular occurrence, especially since Bane had returned home.

Bane was at Bruce's side and gratefully sunk down into the oversized computer chair that Bruce had procured for him at the beginning of his tenure.

Bruce tried to Batglare Jason out of The Original Batman's favorite and personal seat that the rest of his children revered, but Jason simply Red Hooded him back with an arched brow.

Steph's eyes darted eagerly back and forth between the two, wondering who would crack first.

"I _died,_" Jason said somberly, breaking the silence.

"Oh, good Lord," Bruce huffed in exasperation, sitting down in an empty seat of lesser quality next to Bane and crossing his arms.

"Is this how I'm going to lose every argument with you from now until I die?" Bruce grouched to his son in misery.

"Pretty much," Jason grinned at him, returning to his tinkering with Steph's cowl.

"It's only fair," Steph chimed in.

"Oh! Low blow, Blondie!" Jason sang out, reaching his fist out for a bump.

"The sass of this one, Pops," Jason giggled.

"Wait until you have a teenage daughter," Bruce warned him sagely, stretching his legs out in front of him. "You won't think it's so funny then," the older man cautioned.

"Well, that's when Pop-Pop and Papi and Auntie Steph will either babysit or give me a place to hide out," Jason smiled peacefully, his insides glowing a little bit at the thought of having kids one day with Harley.

"Pssh, if I ever baby-sit, your daughter's going to be ten times worse when I leave," Steph promised Jason with an evil grin. "I fully support the sass of teenage girls. It's our superpower."

"What about the girls at your school?" Bane asked her curiously.

"They weren't sassy," Steph kindly explained. "They were bitches. Big difference. Plus, they were bitches to other girls instead of sassing authority for personal gain."

"Ah," Bane said in understanding.

Jason paused, screwdriver in hand.

"If my future daughter sasses authority for personal gain, I feel that I, as Red Hood, should support and encourage that course of action," he said thoughtfully.

"Ha!" Bruce said, his face lighting up in glee.

"Someday, twenty odd years from now, I am going to play back to you the Batcamera recording of you uttering these foolhardy words and you will weep. _Weep _at your foolish ignorance," Bruce promised his son, making Bane chuckle.

"Not if I get Timmy to destroy the footage first," Jason muttered under his breath to Steph, which made her, in turn, giggle.

"Why were you mocking your poor old father earlier?" Bruce teased Steph with a smile, reaching out and nudging her chair with his foot.

"You would rather I'd have gone to therapy than become Batman?" he grinned at her, feeling surprised when Steph flushed instead of laughing and looked to Jason with pleading eyes instead.

"Nah, we were talking about me, actually," Jason said easily, drawing Bruce and Bane's eyes to him.

"I was telling Steph how you told me you had suspected I'd been sexually abused as a kid when you and me talked about it earlier," Jason said, "but how you told me you didn't believe in therapy back then."

"Oh," Bruce said more seriously, his detective synapses firing.

"I do regret that," Bruce said slowly, surreptitiously watching Steph's face.

"For your sake, son," he clarified.

"I don't regret becoming Batman," Bruce said with a sheepish smile. "But I do regret all the harm I've caused you all by not dealing with my own issues, or getting my children help to deal with theirs."

Bruce noticed that Steph was twisting her hands in her lap as Jason gave her an encouraging smile and a little nod of his head.

Bane and Bruce met each other's eyes as they sat quietly, waiting to see if Steph would gather the courage to speak up about whatever was bothering her, but she appeared to be mired in indecision and nerves.

"You know," Bane said to Steph, "I, too, was sexually abused as a child. By an adult prisoner in Peña Dura. A priest, in fact, who purported to protect me when in fact he had far darker motivations for his so-called generosity."

"Oh, Bane!" Steph said, her eyes going big and sad.

"I'm so sorry," she said, as tears filled her eyes. "That's horrible."

"It was," Bane acknowledged somberly. "It is still something that I struggle with to this day, as I suspect that young Jason also struggles with his abuse."

"Yeah," Jason said. "Harley's tried to help me without becoming my therapist, though," he said.

"She gives me some good books to read and explains the techniques for the trauma skills to me to make sure I understand how to use them."

"Perhaps I should consult with Harley for some reading recommendations," Bane said thoughtfully, glancing over at Bruce.

"We could read them together," Bruce said tenderly, echoing his boyfriend's thoughts as he scooted his chair closer and wrapped his arms around Bane's chest in comfort, although his eyes kept watching Steph, who had folded her arms around herself and appeared to be deep in thought.

"I believe that my abuse contributed heavily to my reluctance to give up the Venom," Bane added, speaking to everyone in the group, but still seeming to direct his words to Steph.

"Although I meditated, even while using, in fact, I found that certain memories were easier to suppress with a self-induced chemical imbalance," Bane said. "Before I learned to accept them."

"My rage used to help me cope," Jason said honestly, surprising Bruce with his admission.

"Mine as well," Bane agreed.

"Son," Bruce said, swallowing hard.

Bane had shared with Bruce about his own rage, as Bruce had shared his struggles with murderous, dark impulses with both his boyfriend and his son. And of course Bruce knew that Jason as Red Hood had been incredibly violent before marrying Harley and going into semi-retirement, but to realize that part of Jason's childhood anger had stemmed from his sexual abuse?

It hurt Bruce's heart, making him wish again that he had gotten his son professional help as a child instead of suiting him up as Robin.

Jason sighed.

"I mean, I had a lot to be angry about," he said. "Not just the abuse," he said to Bruce. "But turning the rage outward kept me from turning it inward," Jason muttered.

"Yes," Bane said, reaching out to squeeze Jason's shoulder.

"I had a similar experience," Bane said. "Not that harming others is to be desired, either, of course…" he murmured.

"If they're innocent," Jason quipped with a wink, making Bane laugh heartily while Bruce groaned.

"Well, it is the rare few who can be Gotham vigilantes and administer swift justice to the guilty, eh?" Bane said to Jason when he got his breath back.

"Lucky for us, we're two of the rare ones," Jason grinned.

"What about you, Steph?" Jason said gently, reaching out to rub the still silent girl's arm. "Anything you want to share?"

"You can tell us," Bruce promised her, and when Steph saw in his eyes that the World's Greatest Detective had picked up on Jason's hints and was already prepared for her words, she let out the breath she'd been holding, even though she felt some tears now trying to start.

"One of my dad's friends tried to rape me when I was a kid," she mumbled, making Bane inhale sharply as his nostrils flared, while Bruce's mouth got grim and Batlike, even though his eyes were watering as he scooted forward.

"I'm so sorry, honey," Bruce said to her, sounding as devastated as Steph's surprising confession made him feel.

"Do you want a hug?" Bruce asked her. "Or not," he said, suddenly wondering if Steph would welcome touch at the moment given the subject matter of her confession.

"Hug, please," Steph said, reaching her arms out as her chin wobbled.

Bruce leaned forward and wrapped his daughter up tight in his arms, rubbing the back of her head with one hand while she sniffed and leaked out some tears.

"My dad killed him," Steph said with her face half buried in Bruce's shoulder. "Because I told him about it. And he didn't believe me at first and called me a liar, but then he changed his mind when he saw how messed up I was, and then he went and killed him.

"And I feel so bad about it," Steph said, her tears starting to come harder now. "Even though I know I shouldn't."

Bruce sighed heavily.

"This is another reason why we don't kill people," he said, turning his head to look at Jason and then back at Bane. "Did you ever stop to consider the impact that killing perpetrators might have on their victims?"

Jason's mouth fell open.

Oh, he wanted to argue. He wanted to argue _so badly _with Bruce. It was hard enough to get a rapist convicted, let alone locked away for more than five years. Was that justice? What about the impact that the perps being released had on their victims, he wanted to say to Bruce?

But as Jason looked at his guilt-ridden, broken down little sister, he felt his words dry up in his mouth.

Not that he was changing his mind, or anything. But… well… it was true in Steph's case, anyway, that she'd been tormented by her father's actions. Even if Arthur's actions had kept her safe and given her a modicum of peace at the same time.

And… ok…. Jason was well read, and Maya Angelou had stopped talking for seven years when her family had killed the guy who raped her as a kid… and, well…. Shit.

Maybe kids took things a little too hard.

Maybe not just kids, his conscience whispered. Harley had cracked up a little bit, too, once Jason and Bane had taken out her stepdad.

But… but… life was messy, and there were no easy answers, Jason thought with a sigh.

"Listen to me, Steph," Bruce was saying to her. "I am telling you this as Batman. What your father did was not your fault. At all."

"I know," Steph mumbled, even though her voice said that she still didn't accept the answer that her brain and her Batman were telling her.

Still, though, Steph thought to herself as Bruce continued to hug her. Maybe it could actually make her feel a little better, if she'd let it, that it was Batman telling her that her rapist's murder wasn't her fault.

Because, he was _Batman_.

He'd been Batman even when she was a kid and her dad had done what he did. So maybe if Batman was saying it… maybe… maybe Steph could kind of sort of start to believe him.

"You promise Batman doesn't think it was my fault?" she whispered to Bruce, turning to look at him.

"I promise," he said deep and gravelly like his voice used to go back when he suited up and put the cowl on.

"Ok," Steph sniffed, pulling back to rub her eyes on her sleeve.

Seeing as how Alfred wasn't there to provide a clean handkerchief.

"Maybe I can believe Batman," Steph said softly to Bruce, who nodded at her and smiled brokenly as he rubbed her upper arm.

"You can," he said. "I promise," he repeated, and Steph nodded back at him this time.

"I'm glad you told me what happened," Bruce said to her, even though his heart was breaking inside for his daughter.

"Harley told me I should," Steph smiled half-heartedly as she wiped her face.

"Me and Jason talked about it together when he first got back," she said, and Bruce shot a grateful look at his son.

"I, too, am glad that you shared with us," Bane said, moving forward as Bruce pulled back so that he could also hug Steph.

"Thank you for telling me about your abuse, too," Steph said as he hugged her tight.

"And you, too, Jason, for before," she said, getting a warm smile of acknowledgement from her brother.

"I must confess," Bane rumbled as he sat back down, "I do not find myself sorry that the bastard is dead," he said somewhat guiltily.

"Me neither," Jason said grimly.

"I'm not exactly sorry he's dead, either," Steph sighed, rubbing her head, "because I feel safer knowing he's not out there waiting to attack me again. But I still wish my dad hadn't killed him. Or that I didn't feel so guilty about it. I don't know what I wish," she muttered in frustration.

"Abuse is never easy to sort through," Jason said comfortingly. "And you could still go get therapy, you know," he pointed out. "The pardon Harley got your dad covered any unconfessed crimes, so it's not like he'd get in worse trouble if you talked about what he did," Jason said, giving Steph something to consider.

"Plus," Bruce said, "maybe the fact that Arthur is choosing to remain in Arkham willingly can bring you some comfort, that he's doing his best to atone for the past and get well, rather than choosing the more selfish path of freedom."

"Yeah," Steph said thoughtfully. "That's true, I guess. He _is_ paying for what he did," she said slowly, "even though he doesn't have to anymore."

"He has chosen the nobler path," Bane said. "Prison, even with privileges, is still prison," the former criminal said as one who knew.

Steph nodded as she thought over what her lovingly supportive family was telling her, and found herself startled by a sudden longing to talk about the past with her dad.

They never used to get along well; hell, Arthur mostly yelled at her. Or locked her in closets. Or fought with her mom. Or destroyed their lives by dragging their entire family through the dregs of the criminal underworld.

But would he be any different, now that he'd been getting treatment?

Harley talked about Arthur Brown like he was her friend. And Harley had considered him a good enough person and a valuable and trustworthy enough teammate that she had gotten him pardoned with the rest of the Suicide Squad.

"Would you come with me," Steph asked Bruce slowly, "if I wanted to go see my dad sometime?"

Bruce's eyebrows shot up.

"Of course, Steph," he said immediately. "Of course I would," he said, reaching out to squeeze Steph's hand.

"Anytime you want," Bruce promised. "I'm sure Tim could come, too, if you needed him for moral support."

"Really?" Steph said, drawing her brows together. "I thought only immediate family was allowed to visit at Arkham. Plus you, because you're my guardian."

"Honey," Jason drawled to Steph while a knowing grin appeared on Bane's face.

"Do you not know who runs Arkham Asylum?" Jason winked.

Four pairs of eyes turned to the practice mats just in time to see Harley knock into Dick's side with a flying somersault, slamming him to the ground with a loud thump.

"That was for me," Jason proudly bragged.

"Nice shot, baby!" he yelled across the Batcave as Harley backflipped to her feet and blew him a kiss.

"Yeah, Tim will be allowed into Arkham just fine," Steph agreed with a little smile, feeling even lighter inside now that she'd crossed the hurdle of telling Bruce her secret.

He was becoming a really good dad, Steph thought to herself with gratitude. And maybe with Bruce at her side, Steph could manage to look her original father in the eyes and talk to him about how guilty she'd felt all these years, and maybe tell him how she felt about some other things, too.

It was time, Steph thought. And with her family and her boyfriend holding her hands, she finally felt ready.

* * *

_A/N We are very close to the end! Still looking to end at or near Chapter 50. _

_Updates may become a little spaced out as needed, although I am still aiming for once a week. I am finding that the final chapters are taking longer, however, as I am trying to pick up and weave in all the loose threads which requires some extra planning. _

_No worries, however, the story will finish even if a chapter seems delayed; rest assured, I'm actively working on them. _

_You can always check in with me on Tumblr (River9Noble) if it's been several days past the normal Thurs/Fri post date and you start to get concerned, but they'll keep rolling out as soon as I can get them done each week. _

_As always, comments are lovely and much appreciated. Thanks for reading! _


	45. Chapter 45

_**Chapter 45**_

"Bane!" Damian cried before launching himself into the large man's lap with a double somersault as he came running over from the practice mats.

"Acrobatics training was successful, I deduce," Bane said with twinkling eyes as his arms easily surrounded the boy in a warm hug while Bruce, Jason, and Steph looked on with smiles.

"Yes, papi," Damian replied. "But Grayson is tired of Harley Hood pummeling him so he suggested that we work with you and Father now on different techniques."

Jason snorted and even Bruce's lips twitched.

"Harley did seem to be hitting a little hard this afternoon," Bruce commented dryly to his older son.

"Whatever do you mean, dear Father?" Jason replied with smirking eyes.

"He means that Harley was ferociously combating Dick Grayson with acrobatic skills that Nightwing regularly employs as attack strategies but has never had opportunity to defend against, baba," Damian explained to Jason very seriously, "since Grayson operates out of Bludhaven and Harley prefers Gotham."

"It was most valuable training for him," Damian nodded sagely. "I expect that he is thanking Harley profusely as we speak."

"I'm sure that he is, habibi," Jason nodded back with a straight face before glancing over to the mats as the corner of his lips curled up.

Dick was bent over wheezing as Babs stood beside him with a consoling hand on his back while Tim pressed a water bottle to his brother's lips.

Harley was looking on smugly.

Steph covered her mouth with two hands so she wouldn't laugh and hurt Damian's feelings as Bruce muttered something that only Bane heard under his breath, making his boyfriend chuckle.

"I wish I could practice my acrobatic combat," Steph sighed after a minute, pounding her crutch as impatiently into the ground as if it was Harley and Dick was the cave floor.

"Hey, you're gonna have lasers soon," Jason reminded her with a grin, waggling his soldering iron at her as he continued to work on her cowl.

"That's true," Steph admitted, "but I'm so tired of sitting around while everyone else gets to fight," she sulked in self-pity.

"I do apologize once again for breaking your ankle, Stephanie," Bane said contritely.

"It's ok, Bane," Steph sighed back. "I get why you did it."

"And yes, B," she sighed a thousand times more melodramatically to halt the oncoming lecture preparing to spew from Bruce's mouth like an erupting volcano, "I know it was really my own fault for going up against Bane without you," Steph said with exaggerated self-recrimination.

"She admits I'm right," Bruce said in awe to the group sitting around him. "This is another security recording that I'm definitely saving for future playback," he smirked at his daughter.

"Yeah, that's another one Tim's going to delete," Steph mumbled behind her hand to Jason.

Bruce gave a mock frown as Jason snickered.

"What was that I heard?" Bruce asked Steph suspiciously.

"Nothing," Steph immediately replied super innocently. "Nothing at all."

"Uh huh," Bruce said with a knowing look that made her giggle before she heaved out another sigh.

"I'm so booooored," she whined.

"What about your upper body training?" Bruce asked her. "And your maintenance work on your left leg?"

"I finished it upstairs in the gym," Steph said.

"Exercise bike and elliptical?" Bane checked.

"Done," Steph groaned.

"I'll bring over a practice dummy and a box of batarangs," Bruce said. "Work on your aim from your chair."

Steph let out a muffled howl that sounded vaguely elephant like.

She had spent so much damn time in the last two weeks throwing batarangs not only at dummies, but also at moving targets which Bruce had helpfully had Damian and Tim provide for her to strengthen their defensive skills.

Steph had started throwing batarangs in her sleep, she had thrown so many batarangs lately.

"Stephanie Brown already has adequate aim with batarangs," Damian pointed out to Bruce, to Steph's great relief.

"She should practice with knives instead," Damian said helpfully.

Bruce gave Damian a Look.

"Not Alfred's knives, Father," Damian said in an offended voice, causing Jason to bust out laughing, hard, as Steph and Bane giggled and Bruce groaned.

"Throwing knives," Damian explained, as if all Bruce needed was clarification.

"When have I ever taught you kids to use throwing knives?" Bruce said to Damian in befuddlement.

"You have not," Damian said disapprovingly. "A most serious gap in your training regimen for us, Father, I must say."

Bruce's sarcastic eyebrow that Damian completely failed to register made Bane chuckle softly.

"At least you kept the kids away from _one_ thing," Jason grunted, though, unable to refrain from giving his father a dark look.

Bruce grimaced.

"We don't need to use knives," the elder Bat said to Damian without answering Jason. "We have batarangs instead," Bruce said. "They're non-lethal."

"So are knives, providing that your aim is accurate if you do not wish to strike a lethal blow," Damian said in confusion as he drew his little eyebrows together.

Jason snorted.

"He's got ya there, Pops," Red Hood said.

"Plus," Damian went on, "knives can be hidden up sleeves, whereas a batarang is too oddly shaped to be properly concealed."

Bruce gave him another odd look as Steph and Jason locked eyes, both forming the same mental image.

"I have tested it, Father," Damian explained in a patient voice fit for a toddler, confirming his siblings' suspicions.

"Batarangs do not fit well and also get stuck in your sleeve when you attempt to withdraw them," Damian said with calm logic.

Steph's giggles turned into coughs.

"Little D is right," Jason said. "Knives don't get stuck in sleeves," Jason nodded with a very straight face, "making knives far superior to Batarangs, Pops," Red Hood lectured while Bane wisely said nothing.

"Exactly, baba," Damian agreed, snapping his wrists sharply.

Steph jumped at the knives that suddenly appeared in Damian's hands as Bruce's jaw fell slightly open. Bane looked on with amusement, although he wondered if he needed to be concerned about Bruce's blood pressure given the way that Bruce's eyes were dilating.

"Do you always wear concealed knives?" Bruce asked Damian, gaping at him in shock.

"Naturally," Damian said in surprise. "All assassins do."

Bruce didn't want to look, he didn't, but his eyes flicked to Jason as if drawn by a magnet just in time to catch his second son's cached knives being equally abruptly unsheathed.

Jason gave his father a wickedly provoking smirk.

"I think working with the batarangs will be just fine for Steph," Bruce said faintly. "For today," he added when Damian looked ready to argue.

"I don't know, B," Steph said as she leaned in with a predatory gleam in her eye. "I think Damian is right. I should start training with knives."

"Of course I am right," Damian nodded at her in approval. "Wise of you to recognize that fact, Stephanie Brown," the little boy said.

"You arethe superior warrior," Steph said solemnly. "I bow to your judgment."

"As you should," Damian said gravely, accepting Steph's homage as regally as a king to the background noise of Jason's intense coughing fit and Bane's chorus of soft chuckles.

"I don't have any throwing knives for Steph to practice with," Bruce lied to Damian as his eyes silently begged Bane to back him up on the knife ban.

"Yes, you do," Steph said before Bane could get a word in edgewise.

"I got rid of them," Bruce responded through gritted teeth.

"From the vault?" Steph asked, furrowing her brow while Jason raised a slow eyebrow at his father.

"Yes," Bruce lied again as Bane's eyes flicked back and forth from him to Jason to Stephanie.

"I have many knives, Father," Damian beamed.

"I will share," he offered proudly before dashing off to retrieve them without waiting for a response.

"Gahhh," Bruce wailed, raising a fist to his mouth.

He turned to glare at Steph.

"You know why we locked all the knives up!" he hissed at her.

"Ha! I knew you kept them," Steph crowed triumphantly.

"Obviously I kept them," Bruce snapped at her. "They're high quality weapons and some are quite rare. And expensive."

"Of course they are," Jason murmured with a grin.

"Mi amor, please enlighten me," Bane said in confusion. "Why did you lock away your knives? And lie to your son?"

"Because Damian tried to kill Tim twice when he first got here," Bruce said with exasperation that was aimed at Steph. "Not that my child can't make a weapon out of anything -"

"- or kill people with his bare hands," Jason added helpfully -

"- but I thought it best to remove whatever obvious sources of temptation existed," Bruce finished explaining with an irritated look for Jason.

"I was wondering where all the swords and battle axes went," Jason said, completely untroubled by Bruce's chastisement.

"Oh, it was ages ago that Damian tried to kill Tim," Steph poo-poohed back to Bruce.

"He's been over that phase for a long time," Steph said. "I can definitely start learning how to throw knives now," she declared.

"I don't like the idea of my children throwing knives," Bruce started to say but Jason's rudely loud snort of disbelief cut him off.

"Since when?" Jason scoffed. "You taught me and Dick how to throw knives."

"B, you hypocrite!" Steph chastised him, putting her hands on her hips.

"For the record," Bruce said sternly, "_Talia _taught Dick and Jason how to throw knives. Not me."

"Only 'cause she was better at it than you!" Jason laughed in his face.

"Quit trying to wiggle out of it, Pops. You know it was part of our training. Look, I hate the idea of you training the kids at all, but at least don't lie about what you used to do," he reprimanded his father.

"You don't hate us training, Jason," Steph protested. "You're giving me lasers in my cowl."

Jason gave her a hard look.

"Because I know I can't stop you from going out where you don't belong, Blondie," he said shortly. "I'd rather see you well-equipped to defend yourself so you have a better chance of not getting killed."

"Oh," Steph said in a suddenly small voice.

An uncomfortable silence fell.

"The Bat-boy and the Batgirl have thought through their choices with appropriate gravity, my friend," Bane said gently to Jason, reaching out to lay a hand on his shoulder.

"And your father did not recruit either of them, or even invite them into his life. They invited themselves."

Jason let out a deep, angry breath through his teeth.

"Maybe my father should have been the adult and said 'no,'" Jason said, glaring at Bruce.

"Maybe I should have," Bruce admitted quietly, surprising Jason.

"Especially with Tim," the former Bat added, glancing guiltily towards the mats where Tim and Harley were continuing to spar as an exhausted Dick and a moderately worn out Babs looked on.

"Why especially with Tim?" Steph frowned.

"You had made yourself into Spoiler before I took you on as Batgirl," Bruce said, looking back at his daughter with heavy eyes. "I thought it would be better to train you rather than to let you keep working on your own, alone and underprepared," he said.

Jason's face softened the slightest bit as he considered his father's words. He knew a little something about stubborn kids running off by themselves into danger, after all. Maybe, in Steph's case, if she really was determined to keep going with or without Bruce, maybe Pops did do a good thing to mentor her, after all.

"But Tim…" Bruce's voice trailed off.

The former Batman sat silent for a minute.

"He had never even studied martial arts," Bruce mumbled with embarrassment.

"Timothy is a good fighter now," Bane said truthfully. "You trained him well."

"Dick helped," Bruce said. "But I shouldn't have taken Tim on as Robin. Especially in the state of mind I was in," he said grimly.

"What's done is done," Bane said pragmatically. "And, seeing as how you have established the mythos of the Batman in Gotham City, it is not at all a negative to have such a mature-minded and skillful successor in line for our inevitable future retirement."

"My retirement is not so future anymore, though, is it, love?" Bruce murmured back with a bittersweet smile.

"Eh, mi cielo, you will continue on behind the scenes for many years yet to come," Bane said comfortingly. "As will I, when I one day lay down the mantle for the Batboy to take up."

"Perhaps your father should not have allowed Timothy Drake to become Robin," Bane said soberly to Jason, who was looking thoughtful.

"But seeing as how the Little Bat did not have a choice in his indoctrination into the life of an assassin," Bane said, "it pleases me greatly to know that, while he would be most capable of becoming the Batman one day, he is no longer wedded to that destiny, either by desire or by necessity."

Jason sighed.

"I guess we can agree on that," he muttered, running a hand through his hair.

"And at least it's good to hear you admit to being wrong about something for once, Pops," Jason said to Bruce without antagonism.

His father chuckled ruefully.

"Oh, you should have been around for the last six weeks instead of the last ten days," he said. "I don't think I've stopped admitting how wrong I've been about almost everything I've done in my entire life," he said.

"Except for adopting you and Dick," Bruce added suddenly with a heartfelt warmth that managed to coax a little boy's smile out of Jason's hardened adult face.

"I regret how badly I hurt you, but I will never regret adopting you," Bruce said lovingly to his son.

Jason sighed, unable to deny the happiness that flooded his chest at Bruce's words, even though his life with Bruce Wayne had also been filled with pain and sorrow.

"Thanks, Pops," Jason said as Bruce's eyes continued to rake over him fondly, still hardly believing that his once-dead son was not only alive but back in his life.

And even though Jason couldn't bring himself to say out loud to Bruce that he didn't regret being adopted - because that was a stretch to get his heart and his mind to accept, given the hellish abuse that Jason had suffered at Dick's razor-sharp tongue and the insomnia-inducing, terror-filled nights that a young Jason had unwillingly spent on the streets of Gotham as Robin - Jason could at least acknowledge that he loved his current life, most especially his wife, but also the rest of his crazy, mixed-up family who he was slowly either building or repairing bonds with.

Who was to say if he would have ended up as happy if Bruce hadn't taken him in way back when? Jason thought.

And Bane made a fair point. If there was anyone who Jason wanted to see freed from the shackles of the vigilante life, it was little D, who undoubtedly would have insisted on becoming Batman as an adult if Tim didn't already exist as a very worthy alternative.

It still sucked that the kids were in the life at all, but, well, life was messy. No escaping that fact, Jason thought.

And here was Damian himself, scampering back into the Batcave with a beautifully polished wooden box in his arms.

"Here, Stephanie," Damian said, racing over to place it carefully in her lap.

She opened the lid and drew in an appreciative breath at the elegantly carved weighted ebony handles of the gleaming set of throwing knives.

"Knives?" Dick said with interest, appearing behind them with sweat still dripping down his brow as he chugged yet another bottle of water.

"You lifted the ban, Bruce?" Dick smiled over at his father before flicking his eyes to Damian, who was eagerly showing Steph the proper fingerhold.

"Good decision," Dick said quietly. "He's ready."

"I hope," Bruce muttered with a father's tired defeat.

Bane patted his knee.

"Your wife hits hard," Dick complained to Jason as he toweled off before taking a seat next to him.

"Yeah, she does," Jason said dreamily, trailing his eyes back over to his girl, who had Babs back on the mats with her and Tim again now that Dick had limped off to lick his wounds away from the gleaming eyes of his victor.

"From where did you obtain these knives, Little Bat?" Bane said with interest as he and Bruce leaned forward to look at the extremely high quality set.

"I got them on Ebay," Damian said. "With Father's credit card."

Bruce choked.

"Those are really nice, Little D," Dick said, also admiring the blades.

"The handles are carved both to balance the weight and to give you a good grip," Damian said, lifting one up and offering it to Dick, "but they are still too big for my hands. I will grow into them, though," he said peacefully.

"But Stephanie may use them in the meantime," he said with a tiny smile for her.

"Thanks, Damian," Steph replied, a genuinely grateful smile breaking out onto her face as she practiced holding one.

"That is not how I showed you," Damian scolded her, readjusting her fingers on the handle.

"I can coach her for awhile," Dick offered. "Tim is waiting for you over at the mats."

"Oh! Yes," Damian said, remembering his original mission.

"Harley suggested that you could teach Bane how to propel me through the air as a flying weapon, Father," the boy said with eyes alight.

"Because he is so large and I am so small," Damian needlessly explained. "Harley said that we would get excellent velocity and I could combine my flights with weapons or acrobatic moves."

"That is not at all a bad idea, son," Bruce said thoughtfully, stroking his chin.

He glanced at Bane for confirmation, who nodded.

"Batboy can assist your Father in spotting you while we work out the mechanics," Bane said cheerfully, rising to his feet.

"Come, Little Bat," he said, holding out his hand to Damian, who happily took it in his.

Bruce found a smile warming his face when Damian stretched his other little hand out for his own and he gratefully took it, sharing a sweetly fond look with Bane as they held Damian between them.

"Will you get the training dummy for Steph?" Bruce asked Dick. "Set it up away from everyone," he warned him.

"I know how to be safe," Dick groused, running off to grab it.

Once it was in place, Dick gave Jason a hesitant glance before re-seating himself.

"I ain't gonna bite ya," Jason muttered, rolling his eyes at his brother.

"Course ya ain't," Harley smirked, coming up to join them with Babs at her side. "'Cause you don't eat dick."

"OH! Vicious," Steph yelled with glee as Jason laughed and high-fived his wife.

"I eat dick," Babs whispered seductively in her boyfriend's ear before nibbling the edge as she sat down next to him.

"And so well," Dick said adoringly, leaning in for a kiss on her lips.

"What'cha all up to?" Harley said, noticing the knives.

"Damian convinced Bruce to let me learn how to throw knives and Dick is gonna teach me," Steph grinned.

"Really?" Babs said, her eyebrows going up. "Bruce got the knives out again?"

"These are Damian's," Dick groaned, although he was laughing, too, as he picked one up and began demonstrating the proper handhold to Steph.

Over at the mats, once the initial trial and errors had been worked out in the Bane-powered Bat-Mite-apult and Damian was regularly sticking his landings landing without fear of injury, Bruce and Tim sat at the edge of the mats to watch, although they remained ready to jump up if needed to spot an emergency mishap.

"It's good to see Damian smiling so much these days," Bruce said to Tim, as Damian's bright smile lit his face up during flight after flight.

"He's become a real boy," Tim quipped.

"You have, too," Bruce said thoughtfully, looking down at his middle son.

"What?" Tim said, startled.

"You've been smiling a lot more, yourself, lately," Bruce said. "I've noticed."

"So have you," Tim smirked back, getting a chuckle and a side poke from Bruce.

"Touché," Bruce said, with his increasingly familiar easy smile crossing his face.

"I think we're all happier now," Tim observed, the relaxed, peaceful feeling in his chest confirming that it was true.

"It's about time," Bruce sighed, and Tim couldn't contradict him.

Not that living with Bruce even during his mentor's darkest periods hadn't been a thousand times better than living with his own parents, or that Tim hadn't known exactly what he was getting into years ago when he sought Bruce out to insist on becoming Robin, but it was undeniably true that Bruce's happiness or lack thereof affected the entire family in profound ways.

"I'm glad you'll have Bane to be your Batman while you're still young," Bruce said suddenly to Tim. "Instead of me."

"Really?" Tim said, confusion creasing his face.

Because he knew that he wasn't Bruce's favorite Robin, but… wasn't Bruce a little bit sad that their run had come to an end?

Tim was.

For all that Bruce had his flaws - and he had many - he was still Tim's Batman. And, in Tim's heart, he always would be.

"You deserve better," Bruce was saying to him, though, looking at him gravely.

"I do?" Tim squeaked.

"How can you say that?" he asked Bruce. "You're the original Batman. No matter how good Bane becomes at it, he'll always be your imitation."

Bruce looked at Tim pensively for a minute.

"I didn't do right by you," he finally said quietly to his son.

"How?" Tim protested in shock.

Because Bruce certainly hadn't done _wrong _by him, Tim thought to himself.

"I let you be the responsible one," Bruce said, though. "And that was my job. I was the adult. And I didn't act like it."

"You always kept me safe," Tim said, frowning. "And you never let me out in the field on my own. You trained me hard first, too, to make sure I was ready."

"Yes," Bruce said. "But that was only me being cautious due to losing Jason."

"All of the moral responsibility for Batman?" Bruce said. "I put that on your shoulders," he said somberly, and Tim swallowed.

He couldn't deny that he had held the moral compass for a long time as the Robin to Bruce's Batman. Bruce's descent into extreme violence was why Tim had insisted on becoming Robin in the first place, worrying that if he didn't step up, Batman as Gotham City knew him would soon disappear altogether, leaving a hellish shell in his place.

"I didn't ask you to put it on my shoulders," Tim said, though. "I came to you."

"But I was the adult," Bruce said again. "Even as low as I was back then, I still knew that I shouldn't have let you carry my burdens for me. But I was selfish and I put them on you."

"I'm sorry," Bruce said softly, holding Tim's eyes steady with his own.

Tim felt his throat getting tight.

"It twisted our relationship," Bruce added with a sigh.

"I know you've noticed," he said, giving Tim a sharper look, and Tim felt his heart drop out.

"Noticed that I'm your least favorite?" Tim half-whispered to his father.

"Oh, Tim," Bruce said, startled. "Son. No. You're not my least favorite at all," Bruce said, shocked.

"You can tell me the truth," Tim mumbled as he fought the urge to wipe invisible tears from his eyes. "I know I am."

"No," Bruce said again, wrapping his arms around Tim's shoulders in a tight hug this time.

"Is that really what I've made you think?" Bruce said with some horror.

Tim blushed and looked away.

"Goddammit," Bruce muttered to himself, releasing one hand from Tim's shoulders to run it through his hair in frustration.

"Tim," Bruce said, turning his son's eyes back to his own.

"You were the adult in our dynamic and I was the child," Bruce said. "And, like a child, I resented you at times for the moral boundaries your presence imposed on me. I didn't feel comfortable crossing lines with you around, and I sulked about it. And internally blamed you for my lack of freedom."

"That's why you feel like you're not my favorite," Bruce said as Tim's tears started to become real.

"Because I was an immature asshole," Bruce finished. "I royally fucked up with Jason, and I didn't do so great with Dick, either, and I've only been half-present with Steph and Damian, but at least they all got a real adult to work with."

"You never did," Bruce said softly. "And you should have. And with Bane, you will, and I'm glad," he said.

"Bruce," Tim choked out, blinking rapidly. "I - so I'm not your least favorite kid then?" he stammered.

"Son, you are my most favorite," Bruce whispered with a cautious eye on Damian, "because without you," Bruce said, "I would have lost myself forever. And all of the others would have lost me, too."

Tim gulped and rubbed his nose on his arm before burying his face in Bruce's shoulder as his father hugged him tight.

"I'm so sorry I've been such a shit dad," Bruce murmured in his ear, "but I promise I'm going to do better from now on. Because you deserve that in your normal life, too. Not just when you're in the suit."

"I love you," Tim mumbled against him.

"I love you, too, son," Bruce said back, squeezing him even tighter.

"And for the record," Tim said, pulling back and wiping his eyes, "even at your worst, you were a way better dad than my real dad."

"Really?" Bruce said in shock and Tim nodded.

"So much better," Tim said. "You'd spent more time with me after only a few weeks of training together than my real dad has spent with me in his entire life."

"Oh, sweetheart," Bruce said, sounding absolutely broken-hearted.

"I knew your parents traveled a lot, but…" Bruce trailed off in dismay.

Tim shrugged and tried to look brave.

"They wanted an heir for Drake Industries," he said. "Not a son."

Bruce grunted in a way that managed to sound both angry at Jack and Janet and pitying towards Tim.

"Are you interested in business, though?" Bruce asked Tim, frowning. "I know I haven't paid a lot of attention over the years, but you've always seemed more excited about computers."

"I am," Tim said glumly. "And my parents are going to flip if I try to tell them that I don't want to go to college."

"You don't?" Bruce said in confusion. "Can't you study computers in college?"

"Not really," Tim said, warming to his favorite subject. "You can get a degree in computer science or computer engineering, sure. But engineering is the hardware side of things, of course, and I'm more passionate about programming."

Bruce nodded as Tim lit up, his words getting faster.

"But college courses depend on published textbooks, so colleges can't keep their courses up to date with the most cutting edge languages and techniques. I'd be stuck wasting my time on rote stuff I already know, which would take away from time as Robin and from time I can spend on my own learning new computer skills."

"College will be such a waste," Tim said grimly. "But mom and dad…" His voice trailed off as he shuddered.

"We'll make a solid plan for your future after high school and then I'll break it to them for you," Bruce said with authority.

"Really?" Tim perked up. "You think you could get them to listen to you?"

"Brucie is a genius at getting people to do what he wants," Bruce grinned, making Tim smile.

"It'll be fine," Bruce said more seriously. "They won't like it if they've been pinning all their hopes on you getting your MBA and becoming CEO of Drake Industries, but they'll eventually calm down."

"I don't know," Tim murmured doubtfully.

"I do," Bruce assured him. "We'll get you set up with an internship at Wayne Corp in the computer labs you're most interested in."

"That would be awesome!" Tim gaped.

"Drake Industries is pharmaceutical," Bruce went on, "so it's not like you'd be competing against your own company by working for me."

"And I'll point out to your dad that an heir uninterested in business, who takes after Brucie Wayne far more than he takes after Jack Drake -" Tim giggled - "is far better off hiring a competent CEO when he inherits his family's company, like Brucie Wayne did, rather than attempting to run the company himself, which would undoubtedly result in all of Jack's hard work getting burned to the ground."

"Which will practically give you father apoplexy and he will immediately concede my point," Bruce finished triumphantly.

"That sounds… really good," Tim said with awed relief.

It was his and Steph's junior year in high school, after all, and Gotham Prep's guidance counselors had been ramping up their nagging about narrowing down potential college lists and visiting campuses and requesting letters of recommendation and Tim's stomach had been in constant knots over his parents' imminent nuclear anger and disappointment in him or, worse still, their bribery-induced-forced-acceptance-and-enrollment at Harvard Business School.

"Does Steph have college plans?" Bruce asked Tim curiously. "Or alternative career plans?"

"Yeah, she wants to go to Gotham U for physical therapy," Tim grinned. "She said it would come in handy for our real jobs."

Bruce started laughing.

"That is the best idea I ever heard," he said. "Our backs and joints will thank her," he chuckled.

"Right?" Tim laughed.

"I'm glad you two are dating," Bruce said to him. "It'll give you a good excuse to keep living here after your parents move back. Otherwise we'd have to get you an apartment for show."

And Tim thought his heart might burst from happiness, because hearing that Bruce wanted to keep taking care of him, not just for three years but forever… Tim had other parents, but he knew who his real family was.

* * *

_A/N Sorry this update took a little longer than normal. Next week is an off-week for my other longfic so I'm hoping to get Ch. 46 finished closer to its normal weeklong schedule. These ending chapters, though! They're taking some extra work! But we are marching on towards the end :) _

_Comments, as always, are lovely encouragement. Thanks for reading. _

_You can follow me on Tumblr as River9Noble. Come say hi! _


	46. Chapter 46

_**Chapter 46**_

Jason had finished installing the lasers in both Harley and Steph's headgear and Steph had gotten some good hits in on the practice dummy with her knives before Bane and Bruce and Tim and Damian made their way back over to the rest of the family from the showers.

"I believe we should ascend to assist Alfred with the dinner preparations," Bane said as he glanced at the clock.

"I believe we all know that I ain't gonna be any good with helpin'," Harley teased, wrinkling her nose as she stood while Jason set aside her upgraded crown.

"Same," Babs mumbled into Dick's shoulder with a laugh as he giggled, too, and kissed the top of her head, thinking of all of the takeout they ate.

Jason got up and wrapped his arms around his wife's stomach from behind her, tugging her into him with a kiss to her cheek.

"I'm sure Harley can give you two a refresher course on how to set the table so it's up to Alfred's standards," Jason smirked at Dick and Babs while he rocked Harley back and forth to her giggles, prompting Tim and Steph to give each other soft, intimate looks as Robin came over to help his broken-ankled Batgirl up.

Steph wrapped Tim in a hug once she was standing, slinging her arms around his neck, which encouraged Bane to promptly enfold Bruce in a giant bear hug.

Bruce fell into his arms in surprise, but not displeasure, as he looked up into his boyfriend's sparkling eyes.

"I was feeling left out," Bane smiled at him, and Bruce felt his insides melt at his boyfriend's easy affection.

He looked up into Bane's eyes with a warm, tender gaze and pressed a gentle kiss to his lips before leaning into Bane's chest, still feeling absurdly grateful to be held like _he_ was the one that needed protecting, after so many years of being the protector.

Damian looked around curiously at the quartet of embracing adults in the room, and squeezed Osito to his chest with a tiny smile. Hugs had been rare at Wayne Manor before Bane had come.

Oh, Father had always tucked him in at night with a kiss to his forehead and sometimes a gentle hand to the head, and Grayson never failed to squeeze his shoulders and ruffle his hair on the infrequent occasions when he appeared at the manor, but hugs?

Aside from Barbara, who was always free with them but had spent even less time with Damian than Grayson, due to her father's death and her bid for commissioner overlapping with Damian's arrival, hugs had been largely unknown to the boy.

That was a very nice thing that Bane had brought with him into their lives, Damian thought contentedly.

His smile grew wider when Bane released Bruce only to scoop up Damian and Osito into his arms and cuddle them to his chest.

"I am glad you came to live with us, Bane," Damian said to him as he nuzzled his cheek into Bane's muscles, barely noticing that he was actively snuggling because it felt like such a natural thing to do when his papi hugged him.

"I am glad, too, Little Bat," Bane said gently, smiling down at the former child assassin who he'd been privileged to set free years ago, never dreaming that their paths would once again not only intertwine, but fuse together into a father-son relationship.

The mysteries of life, Bane thought to himself.

"Why don't the rest of you go on up?" Bruce was saying to their other children from behind him. "I want to talk to Dick and Jason alone for a few minutes."

Tim and Steph exchanged a knowing glance, having earlier deduced the rocky nature of their brothers' relationship. Babs looked up into Dick's nervous eyes and gave him an encouraging smile and a peck on the lips before turning to leave him with Bruce and Jason.

"Play nice," Harley said over her shoulder as she followed Bane and Babs and the younger kids to the elevator, and Dick had no doubt that her words were meant solely for him.

He sighed.

He had survived facing Jason; surely he could manage a follow-up conversation with Bruce?

But Bruce hadn't known what Dick had done to Jason all those years ago, and as the three men sat down around the Batcomputer, Dick felt shame and embarrassment welling up in his soul - especially when he met Bruce's sad, disappointed eyes.

"I'm sorry," Dick blurted out before Bruce could say anything. "I know I behaved horribly towards Jason. I mean, I know now," he added, belatedly remembering that it hadn't been all that long ago that he had blown up in Bruce's face about the evils of one Jason Todd, devilspawn.

"And I'm sorry that I wasn't a better father," Bruce said somberly. "To both of you," he clarified, looking between his sons. "I should have paid more attention and seen what was happening right under my nose," he said.

"It wasn't your fault, Bruce," Dick protested as Jason sighed but Bruce shook his head.

"I was your father. I should have figured it out and stopped your bullying, Dick," Bruce said heavily. "Ultimately, your actions hurt you as well as Jay."

"And Babs," Jason added, wishing that his heart would quit singing quite so loudly every time that Bruce called him Jay, because it made him feel like that little orphaned kid again who couldn't stop grinning on the inside over being adopted.

"And Babs," Dick agreed, though, looking even more regretful. "And you, Bruce," he added. "I hurt a lot of people with my jealousy and spite."

"Yes," Bruce said, "you did, but I hurt both of you first with my arrogance. The great Batman didn't think he needed parenting advice," he said with mocking bitterness.

"If I had had more humility, I could have set you on a better path, Dick, and spared Jason from -" and here Bruce faltered, because there was so damn much that Jason had gone through as a direct result of Bruce's actions, not the least of which was dying.

But Jason was shaking his head in irritation.

"Enough wallowing in the past," he said. "What's done is done. It sucked, and Dick was an asshole, and you were seriously fucked in the head, Pops, but can we please just let it go? I'm tired of dealing with this shit."

"Ok," Bruce said in surprise, mirroring the startled expression on Dick's face, who looked as if he had been preparing to make penance for hours, if not decades.

"If you really feel like nothing more needs to be said…" Bruce said to Jason hesitantly, who shrugged.

"What else is there to say? We've all fucked up. I left the kid with Talia," he said, his face suddenly contorting with guilt.

"You had just come out of the Lazarus Pit," Bruce said to him softly, reaching out to place a gentle hand on Jason's knee. "And fought the woman who used to be your mother for your freedom. That was a lot."

"And Dick was a kid, and you were a trauma survivor - hell, we're all trauma survivors," Jason groused. "We can make excuses all day, Pops. I'm tired of it," he said wearily. "Let's just admit we all fucked up and move on. I can't keep rehashing this shit over and over again with both of you."

"Dick?" Bruce checked in with him.

Dick's cheeks were still rather red, but he was able to meet Jason's eyes.

"We talked things out a lot, I think," Dick said to Jason as a question, looking relieved when his brother nodded back at him.

"And I'm going to start therapy," Dick added, making both Bruce and Jason's eyebrows go up.

"For real?" Jason said.

"Yeah," Dick said, blushing a little more. "Harley said she'd help me find a good trauma therapist so I can work through all my lingering mixed-up feelings towards you," he said to Jason, who rewarded him with a small smile.

"And me and Babs are gonna go to couples' counseling, too," Dick added.

He was surprised by the whoosh of his brother's deep exhale.

"Good," Jason grunted in relief as he gave Dick a sharp look. "Because I was seriously gonna come around and kick your ass if you ever ran out on Barbie again. She's a good sister and she doesn't deserve your shit."

"I know," Dick said humbly. "She's been way more patient with me than I deserved, but… I really love her," he said quietly, although his expression was sad. "I want to do better for her."

"You will," Bruce promised him.

"Great," Jason said briskly. "Are we done here?" he said, already standing up. "I've had more than enough sap for today."

"I'll tell Alfred to make you some pancakes," Dick said with a gleam in his eye.

Jason stared at him.

"To go with your sap," Dick beamed.

Bruce groaned as Jason continued to stare Dick down.

"Because maple syrup is made from tree sap!" Dick burst out in frustration. "Come on, Jason!"

"That was terrible," Jason said to him. "_Terrible_."

"Not that terrible," Dick sulked.

"I much prefer you two bickering than outright hating each other," Bruce noted as he stood up, too.

Jason grunted under his breath in a way that left no doubts as to who his adoptive father was.

"Wait, wait," Bruce called out to him as Jason turned to flee from all of the feelings choking the air out of the Batcave.

"This meeting is not adjourned. You two need to hug," Bruce said firmly.

"Pops," Jason said in open disgust, his eyes dilating in horror.

Dick's mouth, meanwhile, had fallen open so wide that one of the cave bats could have easily flown inside, had they so desired.

"Bruce," Dick managed to rasp out after glancing nervously at a scowling Jason. "I don't think we're quite there, yet," he said cautiously.

"Either one of you could walk out of this room and fall down dead," Bruce intoned very seriously.

"Been there, done that," Jason muttered under his breath as he rolled his eyes.

But Bruce was still speaking.

"Do you want your failure to hug your brother on your consciences?" he asked his sons with a dark, foreboding BatStare.

Dick was giving his father a strange look.

"When did guilt-tripping become a part of your parenting repertoire?" he asked.

"Today," Bruce proudly declared. "I have been told multiple times by far too many people, most frequently your wife -" he glared at Jason, here - "that my parenting skills are subpar. Consequently, I have decided to up my game."

"With guilt," Jason said dryly.

"Yes," Bruce peacefully replied. "Walk out of this Batcave at your peril if you fail to hug each other. Because when one of you dies -"

"Why stop at death?" Jason snarked. "Why not include comas?"

"Or brain damage?" Dick piped up. "Amnesia," he suggested.

Bruce glared at the two of them.

"All of the above," he growled. "When any or all of the above circumstances happen, I will not fail to tell the surviving brother 'I told you so' for the rest of his life, if you decide to be too stubborn and pig-headed to hug each other right now."

Jason groaned in misery and Dick heaved an enormous sigh. The two brothers warily looked at each other.

"On three?" Dick said reluctantly.

"Fine," Jason said shortly. "Onetwothree -"

Dick and Jason embraced as quickly as if the other was a burning stove that Damian had set aflame in culinary frustration, both bouncing so hard on their mutual rebounds that they had to take several quick steps to maintain their balance.

"It's a start," Bruce said peacefully. "Now me. Hugs," he commanded, reaching his arms out and pausing, unsure which brother to hug first.

"Oh, my God," Jason groaned. "We're not twelve anymore, Pops. Hug Dickie first."

"No, hug Jason first!" Dick countered with a sly smile to his brother.

"Bitch!" Jason said in frustration, giving him an annoyed look before shoving him into Bruce's chuckling arms.

"Hug your damn father so I can hug my damn father so we can end this agony," Jason ordered Dick, who quite happily squeezed Bruce after all, although he got a little teary-eyed at the words that Bruce murmured into his ear too quietly for Jason to hear.

"Good. Swell. You're done," Jason groaned as Dick took his sweet time, most definitely on purpose, in exiting Bruce's arms, until he was assisted by Jason tugging him backwards.

Bruce gave Jason a soft, understanding smile as he wrapped his arms around his second son, pulling him in tight and inhaling his scent and reveling in the wonder that his little boy was not only alive again, but all grown up and willing to be in his inept father's life, despite the past.

"I love you," was all that Bruce whispered into Jason's ear, but it was enough.

"I love you, too, Pops," Jason mumbled back. "A little less than I did before you made me hug the dickhead, though," he sassed, getting a fond chuckle out of Bruce.

"Always so quick with a retort," Bruce smiled at him, cupping his son's cheek.

"Yeah, yeah," Jason grumbled, but Bruce saw the child's smile that wasn't quite hidden behind Jason's scowl.

Upstairs, Harley was taking great pleasure in instructing Babs on how to properly place knives and forks and salad plates, beaming every time that she got it right, even though the police commissioner privately wondered what the fuss was about. Not that she'd ever dare to say that to Alfred.

Damian was working at the island, carefully mixing up ravioli pasta dough from scratch, per Alfred's instructions, while Bane stood next to him, preparing the ravioli filling. Tim and Steph were working side by side at the kitchen counter in the meantime, slicing tomatoes and vegetables in preparation for cooking the sauce.

"I haven't seen anyone make homemade pasta since I was a kid," Babs commented to Damian as she laid a salad fork on the table.

"I'd be over here a lot because my dad was always working late - well, and I was dating Dick," she added to Bane in explanation, "and I remember me and Dick sitting here at the table doing our homework while Alfred rolled out the pasta."

She and Alfred made eye contact and smiled at the memories.

"Those were happy times, Miss Barbara," Alfred said affectionately.

"Yeah," Babs said, swallowing a little bit as her eyes got misty, thinking back to the days when her father's absences were always only temporary.

"Makes you feel old, huh?" Harley said sympathetically. "Havin' the roles reversed."

Babs nodded but Alfred just tutted.

"Imagine how I feel, my dears," he said dryly. "I used to make pasta while a young Master Bruce did his homework on that same table," he said, making everyone laugh.

"Do you need any help rolling the dough out?" Babs asked Damian after she set the last piece of cutlery in place under Harley's approving eye.

"Not yet," Damian replied. "We must refrigerate it for thirty minutes after it is mixed before rolling and cutting it."

"Wow," Harley said in horror-mingled awe. "That's a lot of work."

"How so?" Damian frowned. "It is quite a simple procedure," he said as he continued to work the ingredients together with his hands.

"Well, it's awfully time consuming for something you could just dump out of a box," Harley said and Babs nodded, pursing her lips up as she thought about her daily routine of dragging herself through her front door, too tired and too hungry to wait even five minutes for a meal to cook, usually picking up takeout on her way home unless Dick had beaten her to it.

"Tt," Damian said in an unconscious imitation of Alfred. "All forms of excellence take time to achieve."

"Quite so, Master Damian," Alfred nodded approvingly. "Which is why you and Master Dick should come over for dinner more often, Miss Barbara," the butler said gently, patting the woman's shoulder.

"I would appreciate the opportunity to reform your image of me, if you would do so," Bane added quietly.

"And I shudder to think of the ghastly gastronomical disasters that your poor stomachs suffer through on a daily basis," Alfred mourned, making Babs chuckle in acknowledgement of his truth.

"We could make you and Dick leftovers to eat during the week," Steph piped up, turning her head to look at her sister. "We need practice with our cooking lessons anyway and it's easy to make extra."

"Oh, that would be awesome, Steph," Babs said sincerely, her eyes lighting up like a Christmas tree. "Reheated or not, your cooking will taste better than any takeout," she said.

Damian gave her a pitying look.

"We are still learning to cook and bake, Barbara Gordon," he said. "Even I have not yet mastered the art of proper sponge texture, despite my innate talent for decorating cakes," the boy said with uncharacteristic humility.

"Doesn't matter," Babs said contentedly. "When you're following Alfred's instructions and recipes, you kids can't go that far wrong."

"And you have no idea the kind of crap we eat," Dick giggled as he entered the kitchen and overheard, causing Alfred to let out a despairing sigh.

"It's a low bar," Dick said as Tim snickered in the background.

"I'm so glad those days are behind me," Harley said, looking up with heartfelt gratitude to her husband, who was following Dick into the kitchen, trailed by Bruce.

"You cook?" Babs asked Jason curiously.

"Yep," he smiled.

"And he does all the cleaning, too?" Babs said, her eyes going wide as Dick deliberately turned his back to the women in a pretense of studying the table settings.

"Jay's my house husband," Harley grinned. "I work and he domesticates."

"And it's the best job ever," Jason beamed, reaching a hand out to hold Harley's face so he could plant a deep kiss on her lips.

"I love you, working wife," he grinned at her, his smile deepening as Harley whispered something back in his ear.

Dick had dared to turn around once the focus was off of his lack of homemaking skills, and his eyes got softer when he saw Jason and Harley's easy intimacy. He and Babs had been like that, once - in high school.

But after Jason had died and Dick and Babs' relationship had started to strain under the stress from all sides, the affection between them, while still present, had become far more deliberate and a lot less impulsively light-hearted.

Life had been so heavy and their touches became either desperate clutches for comfort or unselfishly nurturing caresses that never failed to acknowledge the other's burdens. And over time, as Dick had fled more and more often to Bludhaven, their kisses and embraces had become almost dutiful, a considered choice that they were both making to sustain their relationship amidst its fraying edges rather than an erupting expression of uncontainable love.

Maybe it was time to change that, Dick thought as he saw the stars in Jason and Harley's eyes. Because hadn't Babs begun to look at him like that again once he'd started dealing with his shit?

There may not have been a whole galaxy sparkling in her eyes like Harley was currently sporting, but Babs had definitely had at least a few constellations present the last couple of times he'd kissed her, and Dick decided right then and there that he was going to devote himself to sweeping the rest of the clouds away until he needed to wear sunglasses every time he kissed his girl.

"Is there anything I can help with?" Bruce asked Bane and Alfred, who both shook their heads.

"Sit, please," Bane said to him, gesturing the same invitation to Jason and Harley and Dick and Babs as well.

"The Batlings and I have dinner preparations well in hand under Alfred's watchful eyes," Bane said as he and the butler exchanged smiles.

"You don't have to ask me, twice," Bruce grinned, moving to take his seat along with his children.

"Me, neither," Harley happily beamed as she plopped down beside him. "This is the life, huh, Brucie?" she said with glee as she snuggled into Jason's arm. "Having other people do all the work."

"I've always thought so," Bruce nodded gravely, making both Jason and Dick scoff and laugh at his spoiled entitlement.

"How come we had to do so many chores, then, if Alfred let you off the hook?" Dick whined.

"Yeah, Bruce, you and Alfred never made us do any chores until Bane moved in," Tim said, turning around to give him a curious look. "And even now, all we have to do is -" he was about to say cooking, but Steph took the opportunity to pop a tomato chunk into his mouth.

"Don't give him ideas," she hissed, because she really did not want to have to start doing her own laundry and cleaning her own bathroom again, like she'd had to do growing up with her parents.

Bruce appeared to be lost in a memory, however, his eyes fogged over into the distance until Harley nudged his hand.

"You still with us, Brucie?" she asked him.

"Sorry," he mumbled, coming back to himself with a start.

And if that wasn't a sign that he needed to hang up the cowl, he didn't know what was. The old Batman never lost his focus.

"I was just thinking about Dick's question," Bruce said softly, searching out Bane's eyes with his own. "Talia was the one who insisted you kids needed to do chores. She said it wasn't good for you to be lazy and you needed the preparation for adulthood when you wouldn't have Alfred," he said to Bane's sympathetic regard.

"That failed miserably," Dick said cheerfully, although the glance he gave Babs was a little sheepish as she snorted.

"I'll say," Babs grumbled good-naturedly to her sloppy disaster of a boyfriend. "You'd think with all of his precision with batarangs, he'd manage to get his clothes in the hamper once in a while," she teased, making Harley giggle and Jason outright laugh.

"Pathetic," Jason smirked, shaking his head at Dick.

"Absolutely shameful," Alfred sniffed with no hint of humor whatsoever in his voice, which made Dick dip his head.

"I'll do better," he mumbled into his shoulder.

"See that you do," his grandfather said firmly. "What your guests must think when they come over," he clucked.

"We keep the bedroom door shut," Babs said dryly to more laughter from around the family.

"Guess you're not gonna be having many more guests over at the mansion, anymore, huh, Pops?" Jason said. "With Bane living here now?"

"Oh, I haven't had guests over in years," Bruce said in surprise, realizing belatedly that Jason wouldn't have known that, having been gone for most of that time.

"Master Bruce became quite the recluse after your death, Master Jason," Alfred said somberly to Jason's startled eyes.

"Oh," Jason said uncomfortably, thinking of all the galas and cocktail hours and parties that Brucie Wayne used to host when he and Dick were growing up, not to mention the way that the manor was always filled up with Dick's endless stream of friends on the weekends, or the multitude of times that Jim Gordon would come by to pick up Babs and end up staying for a beer and a smoke on the veranda, kicking his feet up on the railing and chatting amiably with Bruce and sometimes Talia, too, about any and everything.

It was hard to imagine his Pops without all of that buzz surrounding him, Jason thought, beginning to really grasp how deeply his death had affected his father. And not just his death, but Talia's disappearance, followed by Bruce's broken back and undoubtedly long recovery… no wonder Tim had been worried about him and forced his way into becoming Robin.

"Well," Jason said, clearing his throat, "I guess it works out then, for keeping Bane undercover," he said gruffly.

"Indeed, it does," Bane said gently, giving him an empathetic smile.

"But I wouldn't keep you a secret if I didn't have to, love," Bruce said with sweet sincerity to his boyfriend.

"It is for the best," Bane said pragmatically, even though the warmth in his eyes flared at Bruce's words.

"Now that I have become the Batman," Bane said, "I must accept that there is more to life than sunshine and social interaction," he teased.

Bruce snorted.

"They don't call him the Dark Knight for nothing," Dick laughed appreciatively.

"I'm not the Dark Knight, anymore," Bruce protested. "In fact, I'm fully capable of taking my boyfriend out on dates while the sun is still up."

"How?" Babs gaped at him.

Even Bane looked surprised at Bruce's words. Bruce shrugged.

"In the Batsuit," he said.

"People will recognize that it is Bane in the Batsuit, Father," Damian said. "And it would be unwise to advertise that Bruce Wayne is dating either Batman or Bane."

"Not Bane in the Batsuit," Bruce said, looking very pleased with himself. "Me as the Bat, and Bane as Bane."

Jason's jaw almost hit the table and Tim and Stephanie turned completely around from their vegetable chopping station. Dick and Babs brazenly stared at Bruce, but Harley looked delighted and Alfred was giving his son an approving nod.

Bane, for his part, looked like he might cry, and felt rather relieved that all of the eyes in the kitchen were currently on Bruce instead of on him. The large former villain had always been a mockery to others; a synonym for a disgusting, unappealing beast.

The idea that Bruce found him not only lovable, but also worthy of being publicly acknowledged as the Bat's paramour - Bane found himself needing to wipe a thumb across the eyes that Bruce was lovingly gazing into.

"If Bane is willing to be seen with Batman, that is," Bruce smiled at him.

"Of course," Bane said immediately in a thick voice. "Of course, mi cielo."

"Good," Bruce said quietly, still holding his eyes from across the room.

"We are _so _tagging along and filming your dates," Tim said with glee.

"Dates are meant to be private, Tim," Bruce frowned at him.

"We wouldn't record your conversations," Steph explained, immediately understanding Tim's excitement. "We want everyone's reactions to seeing Batman and Bane on a date."

"It will be epic," Tim solemnly nodded.

"We'll go viral," Steph agreed.

"No," Bruce scolded them again while Bane chuckled.

"Whatever, I can just pull it off the traffic cameras and security feeds," Tim mumbled under his breath to Steph as they turned back around.

She winked at him in conspiratorial joy.

"Will you and Bane get married like Harley and Jason did, Father?" Damian asked him curiously.

The two men twitched.

"We have not discussed that, Little Bat," Bane said to him gently, "but there would be many legal and logistical difficulties for Bane and Bruce Wayne to wed."

"Oh, my God, your name would rhyme!" Harley squealed. "Bane Wayne!" she screamed, clapping her hands in delight.

"Ha!" Jason crowed. "You have to get married just for that," he said authoritatively. "We won't take no for an answer."

"It's not up to you," Bruce said. "And I don't care how much I love Bane, I am not letting Lex Luthor perform our wedding ceremony," he said decisively.

"Oh, Lex couldn't," Harley said, suddenly serious. "His pilot did it for us. Lex can't fly a plane."

"He doesn't have his pilot's license," Jason clarified for his father with a grin. "Pretty sure he knows how to fly, but we were going for a legal ceremony."

"Oh," said Bruce. "Well," he said, after glancing at Bane, "there you go. A civilian certainly can't marry Bruce Wayne to anyone."

"Wait a minute," Steph said in horror, turning back around. "Lex could? He knows our identities?"

"I suspect he does," Bruce said tiredly, "but I don't know for sure. He's never used the knowledge against us, at any rate, so even if he suspects, I'm sure he doesn't have proof. Unless…" he hesitated, giving Bane a nervous look.

"I did not reveal your identity to anyone," Bane reassured him, looking slightly pained to think back on what he'd once done to Bruce Wayne, aka Batman, in the foyer of his own home.

The home that he now called his own.

"Why not?" Babs asked him curiously.

"Why should I gift lesser criminals with my advantage?" Bane said slyly, in a tone that recalled the villain to mind.

Dick and Babs gave him a look which he returned with a sheepish smile and a bashful shrug.

"I do not know if Luthor knows your identities or not," Bane said, "but I would advise against revealing it to him, most certainly."

"Yeah, he never said nothin' to me about it," Harley said, chewing on her lip.

"But he knows Red Hood's identity," Bruce said, frowning. "That he's Bruce Wayne's formerly dead son."

Shit, that had not occurred to him as a detail to yell at the couple about back when they had reluctantly revealed who had married them. It must have been the shock, Bruce decided. Or further evidence of his slipping mental status, he sighed to himself. Damian's nervous breakdown diagnosis might not have been far wrong, Bruce had to concede.

"Yeah, but Lex doesn't know I was Robin," Jason said easily. "Or that you know I'm alive again, or that I trained with Talia and the League," he said.

"Weird shit happens in Gotham all the time," Jason shrugged. "This ain't Metropolis. So somebody dies and comes back to life, big fucking deal," he said. "Lex wasn't that fazed by it. Congratulated me on cutting Daddy's purse strings, in fact, and becoming my own man," Jason smirked over Harley's giggles.

"Wonderful," Bruce said with an eye roll.

"I'm so glad I've become a hermit," the billionaire groaned in relief. "Can you imagine having to make small talk with Lex at a charity gala while he smirks at me over champagne with his secret knowledge about Jason?" he said to Dick and Babs, who looked equally disgusted.

"He ain't never gonna use his know-how about Jay against you or him any worse than that, though," Harley said comfortingly. "I got a lot of shit on Lex," she said with satisfaction.

"Thank God for the small blessings," Bruce said sarcastically, although he couldn't help the amused crinkle at the corner of his lips at Harley's ridiculously resourceful blackmail files.

"But you would not need Lex Luthor to marry you, Father," Damian piped up. "I am more than capable of flying a jet. I could marry you and Bane."

Bruce's eye twitched.

"You are not to fly any more planes: Batwings, jets, or otherwise," Bruce said in what he hoped was a patient, calm, fatherly voice.

"When did Damian fly the Batwing?" Tim said in surprise.

"When you and Stephanie were in the hospital," Damian said. "The night Bane broke her ankle."

"Good heavens," Alfred murmured under his breath, not sure if he should feel annoyed or relieved that Master Bruce had failed to inform him of this event.

"I didn't know you could fly, Little D," Steph said in awe.

"Of course I can fly," Damian scoffed.

"But he is not _allowed _to fly anymore," Bruce said, pinching his eyebrows with his fingers.

"He would need a pilot's license, anyway, to marry you," Harley added.

"I don't think there's an age restriction on pilot's licenses," Tim said as his eyes lit up. "Damian could get one. Hold on," he said, pulling his phone out to look the information up.

Bruce thought about telling him not to bother, because he wasn't going to allow it no matter what the age limits were or weren't, but as he looked at Bane, who so matter-of-factly accepted that they couldn't get married, and as he thought back over his own past, when he'd once been so in love with Talia that he'd fully intended to propose, and would have done so sooner rather than later had she had a chance to tell him about her pregnancy, Bruce felt the edges of his heart soften.

Maybe -

"Yep, no age limit," Tim interrupted his train of thought. "He would have to get a certain number of hours of airtime with a licensed instructor, though, before he could be licensed."

Damian beamed and looked practically ready to rush out the door for his first lesson (in which Bruce had no doubt that his son would far exceed the competency of his so-called instructor, and wouldn't that be another delightful cover story that they'd have to create. He supposed that he could forge a foreign pilot's license for Damian to explain his experience - and here went the former Batman, blithely rolling down the hill of lackadaisity towards minor acts of villainy yet again. Damn Harley Todd, he hadn't given up so hard on his morals until she showed up. Although, Bruce couldn't deny that he did reap the benefits of all the good that Harley had brought into their lives, too - and - )

Bruce realized that everyone in the room was looking at him expectantly.

"Bane and I will discuss it later," he said, realizing with a jolt that he was now in possession of the most precious resource a father could own - an out.

But as Bane tenderly smiled at him before going back to his meal preparations, the flutter in Bruce's heart told him that Damian might end up getting his wings.

* * *

_A/N - Based on these last few chapters, the next chapter will probably realistically post in two weeks. _

_Fanfiction writers are thirsty vampires and comments are our lifeblood. 😁_  
_(But if you are mean, we will cut a bitch. Cuz we are vampires rawr )_

_You can follow me on Tumblr as River9Noble. Come say hi!_


	47. Chapter 47

_**Chapter 47**_

"Masters Dick and Jason," Alfred said when dinner was over and the family just starting to stand up from the meal, "if I could prevail upon the two of you to assist me in clearing the table."

The brothers glanced at each other.

"Sure, Al," Jason said easily, having an inkling of what was on his grandfather's mind.

Dick, however, looked much more nervous, but he bravely swallowed and replied, "Of course, Alfred. I could use the remedial practice."

Babs snorted.

"We can begin meditation when you are ready," Bane said as Damian and Osito accompanied Tim and Steph out of the kitchen and Bruce lingered by his side.

Bane paused and looked to Babs.

"Perhaps you and Dick would care to join us…?" he said hesitantly.

The couple's eyes met and Babs nodded.

"We could do that," she said. "But don't be surprised if Dick falls asleep," she teased. "Harley gave him quite a workout earlier."

The badass in question proudly smirked while Dick blushed a little bit.

"I'm glad I don't have to go up against you all the time, Harley," he admitted.

"You should be," Harley said ominously, with a raised eyebrow, which, to Dick's surprise, made Jason giggle before he swooped his wife upside down into a kiss.

Jason giggling was… odd, Dick thought to himself. He'd always been such an angry, sad, defensive kid. Which, ok, Dick had to bear a lot of the blame for. It wasn't like he'd given Jason anything to smile about back when they were teenagers together.

But it was nice to hear his brother laugh now, Dick realized. It made him feel a little less like an absolute piece of shit, to see that Jason had managed to find happiness despite Dick's absolute fuckery.

Dick had been prepared to wallow in abject misery and guilt forever over what he'd done to Jason, but Jason seemed willing to try to forgive him, or at the very least, to move past it for the sake of being a family, and Dick wasn't denying the after-effects and emotional scars of what his bullying had done to Jason, but maybe… maybe Dick was allowed to forgive himself one day, too.

But first he had to hear whatever was on Alfred's mind. Dick looked wistfully after Harley and Babs as they followed Bane and Bruce out of the kitchen, leaving him and Jason alone with an Alfred who looked very much like he had something that needed saying.

"My boys," Alfred began, reaching each of his wrinkled hands out for one of theirs and completely ignoring the as-of-yet-uncleared table, and if that didn't speak to Alfred's state of mind, Dick didn't know what did.

The butler took a tremulous breath before girding himself up to continue.

"I failed you," Alfred said in a wavery voice. "And your father," he added in a voice thick with regret.

"Maybe we should sit down, Al," Jason said kindly, and the old man sighed and nodded, taking a chair in-between his two grandsons.

"I should have done better," Alfred restarted, tiredly rubbing his forehead with a weary hand. "Master Bruce only just informed me of the grievances that Master Dick subjected you to, my dear boy," he said, turning guilt-stricken eyes to meet Jason's.

"Bruce only just found out about it himself," Dick said heavily, and Alfred nodded.

"So he said," the butler replied, not tearing his eyes away, though, from Jason's, which were starting to water under his grandfather's regard.

"I failed you most of all," Alfred said to Jason, reaching a trembling hand out to run through his grandson's hair. "Letting your father take you out as Robin," Alfred said. "I knew - I _knew _I should have protested," Alfred admitted, swallowing hard.

"I could see that you were different from Master Dick," he continued, reaching his free hand up to wipe his eyes. "So stoic," the butler murmured to Jason. "Always holding in your emotions, bottling them up tight. In my heart, I feared that I knew why, but I was too cowardly to bring it to your father's attention."

Dick frowned.

"When did Jason ever bottle things up?" he asked, but not meanly.

"After you left home, young sir," Alfred replied. "Once your Father made him into Robin. You were so exuberant as Robin, Master Dick," Alfred said, finally turning his head to meet his eldest grandson's eyes. "But your brother…"

"I hated it," Jason said in a tight voice. "I was only doing it for Bruce, because I thought I had to."

"As I feared," Alfred murmured, letting his hand trail down to feebly squeeze Jason's shoulder.

"And having learned of Master Dick's childhood cruelty to you now as well, I must also accept my piece of the blame in that regard," the butler said.

"How was that possibly your fault, Alfred?" Dick said, puzzled. "You didn't know about it."

Alfred gave him a look.

"I did not, no," he said, "but I knew that the fragile stability which you had gained in your life after being taken in by Master Bruce had already been tenuously stretched when he began his relationship with Miss Talia and that your once-strong foundations were shaken even further when your father adopted Master Jason."

"I loved Talia," Dick protested.

"Eventually," Alfred smiled at him. "But at first, you were like a nervous colt, sir. Miss Talia's presence in our lives threatened the sense of safety and balance which you had labored so ardently to achieve with myself and Master Bruce after your parents' deaths."

"And barely a few short years after his romantic relationship began, when the dust was just beginning to settle in your soul from the previous shake-up which it had endured, Master Bruce was adopting young Jason," Alfred said.

Dick swallowed. He didn't like to think back to that time, for many reasons, but hearing Alfred point out his obvious childhood insecurities reminded him of how terrible he'd felt back then when it was all happening. Dick had been scared - scared that Bruce wouldn't have enough room in his life left for him once he'd fallen in love with Talia.

The reality of their relationship hadbeen a difficult adjustment that had left Dick feeling abandoned and betrayed, he began to remember. Bruce's evenings that had once belonged exclusively to Dick, even if they were often comprised of Dick tagging along with Bruce to charity functions and galas, were now split between Dick and Talia.

Dick hadn't realized how much he had enjoyed the dreaded social climber parties until Talia had replaced him as Bruce's plus one. It wasn't the events that Dick had loved, he'd come to understand, but the camaraderie with Bruce; the secret sneaky glances they'd give each other as the boring speeches droned on, and the way they'd pop up to save each other from the overly-attentive society ladies who wanted to coo over both of them, although for different reasons.

But it wasn't only being replaced by Talia at the parties that began to strip Bruce away from Dick.

The father and son's cherished quiet evenings spent together at the manor before patrol also began to be leeched away by Bruce's actual date nights with Talia, outside of their dreadful social obligations.

Not that Bruce didn't still make time for his son; he was always careful to save at least three or four evenings a week exclusively for Dick, no matter what, which Dick appreciated, but it wasn't the same. Especially when scarcely a year after Bruce and Talia had started dating, Bruce invited her to move into the manor.

Oh, Bruce continued to reserve about half of the nights in a week for father and son time, but those evenings were now father, son, and Talia time. Which, ok, became nice eventually. Dick could admit that. Talia's willingness to bond with him as Bruce's co-parent is what eventually led Dick to consider her a mom and a true member of their family.

But at first? Even though Talia had been consistently insightful and gracious enough to give Dick at least one night a week alone with Bruce while she did her own thing, her presence in the manor was that of an interloper stealing away more of Dick's precious, golden moments with Bruce, who was not only his second father, but, if Dick was going to get completely, embarrassingly sentimental and sappy, was also his savior, not to mention his hero.

So even after Dick came to love Talia, and he truly had, it was never the same as it had been when it was just Bruce, Dick, and Alfred, weathering the rocky waves of sudden parenthood and an abruptly traumatized childhood on the same leaky, flimsy raft that somehow, by working together, the three of them had just barely managed to keep afloat.

They'd been a team, each one clueless but determined to make their little family work, and Dick had never known exactly how special and wonderful and heart-wrenchingly, brokenly full of love and bonding and comfort those first few difficult years alone together had been until they were gone, washed away by Talia's presence.

Was it any wonder that Dick's soul had been crushed when Bruce had brought home Jason a year later?

"I was not privy to your bullying, no," Alfred was saying to Dick, "but I could see that you were deeply unsettled, Master Dick. Understandably so," he added gently. "So many world-altering changes in a young life that had already been filled with so much upheaval and pain."

Dick looked stricken as he considered Alfred's words but Jason looked quietly thoughtful.

"I never saw it from your perspective," Jason finally said to Dick into the extended silence that had followed Alfred's words. "That was an awful lot for a kid to get hit with in a short period of time."

Dick took in a shuddering breath.

"I never really saw it from my perspective, either," he said with regret as he sniffed and wiped away a few tears.

"Alas, I did," Alfred said mournfully. "Yet, I failed to bring your distress to Master Bruce's attention. He was so delighted in his love for Miss Talia, and so overjoyed at adopting Master Jason, and I feared rocking the boat, as it were," Alfred said, "and dulling Master Bruce's happiness by bringing up Master Dick's disquiet."

"I was selfish," Alfred murmured with shame.

"You always put Pops' feelings first," Jason said truthfully. "Even at our expense."

"Yes," Alfred said as Dick slowly nodded his reluctant agreement. "Yes, and I suppose that your dear wife would diagnose that as my reaction to the trauma of Mr. and Mrs. Wayne's murders. I was so determined to never let my dear boy suffer again…" Alfred trailed off for a moment before continuing.

"You have each suffered the loss of your own parents, as children, as Master Bruce did," Alfred said, "which is of course the deeper pain. But to be an adult by-stander to that trauma - to witness the inconsolable grief of a forsaken, orphaned child -" Alfred broke off his words and swallowed hard as tears filled his eyes.

Jason reached out and clapped a supportive hand on his shoulder.

"I get it, Al," he said softly. "It was hard for you, too."

Dick was sniffing some more.

"I understand, too," he said. "Hell, that's why Bruce adopted me, because he couldn't stand to see me go through the same abandonment that he had experienced, but without anyone there to catch me, like you did for him."

"Yes," Alfred said around his tears. "But in your case, Master Dick, when Master Jason arrived after a similar trial, you were but a child, my boy. You were not yet capable of bearing his burden, and so -"

"- I acted like an asshole," Dick said for him.

"Not the phrasing which I would have chosen," Alfred primly smiled at him.

"Eh, I think Dickie about nailed it, Al," Jason teased with a snark that, to Dick's great relief, was playful rather than cutting.

"We're all pretty much a mess, huh," Dick sighed.

"Speak for yourself," Jason said with a smirk. "I married a therapist and my life is now well-balanced and serene," he declared as beatifically as a seated Bane on a pillow.

And Dick laughed, but as he looked at the peace on Jason's face, he decided that Jason wasn't actually joking. His brother was _happy_. Sure, he still had a temper and had only recently made up with Bruce, but overall? Jason really was doing good. The best out of any of them, Dick had to admit.

Except, well, for Bane. And Harley, of course. But they weren't OG Bats, Dick thought to himself. Out of the original Batfamily, Jason was the only one who had managed to work through his issues and put his life back together.

And if that wasn't a sobering thought, Dick didn't know what was.

The kids, thankfully - at least, Tim and Steph, Dick mentally clarified - they weren't too far behind Jason, though. They hadn't spent as much time going off the rails as Dick and Jason and Babs and Bruce and Alfred had, and what Damian lacked in years of dysfunction he made up for in intensity.

But Tim and Steph? Bruce had caught them in time and they'd caught each other, too, just like Dick and Babs once had, but with more agility and less injury than the older couple had managed. Although, Tim and Steph had had fewer insecurities to start with, Dick realized.

Hell, both sets of their parents were still alive - or, well, presumed alive, in Steph's mom's case - but neither teen had been truly orphaned, despite parental neglect or outright abuse.

Tim and Steph would end up better than all of them, Dick suspected, and the warmth that filled his heart at that thought surprised him. Once upon a time, for a brief flash in the pan, Batman hadn't only been a legend obsessed with fighting the darkness. When he'd stepped out with his first Robin at his side, Batman had transitioned from a broody, avenging creature of the night into a beacon of light and hope for the city.

Commissioner Gordon had even made the BatSignal and started calling Batman for help.

Things had changed, of course; heroes had fallen, bats had been broken.

But Dick had a feeling that one day, with Tim and Steph sharing the mantle, Batman would once again become the light that chased away the shadows instead of an inky, consuming darkness that swallowed them whole and spirited them away to some far more terrifying, inescapable domain.

Damian, though.

There wasn't a Robin suit bright enough to lighten that boy's dark menace.

But maybe that wasn't a bad thing, Dick mused. Light always appeared brighter when propped up by shadows - and, well, darkness seemed darker in juxtaposition to the light, and it wouldn't necessarily be terrible for the underbelly of Gotham to continue to have a mythically dangerous force to fear from a member of the Batfamily.

The damned irony, though.

Oh, well. Dick supposed it would certainly catch criminals off guard when confronted with a rabid, violent, hyper-skilled Robin instead of a competent but considerably weaker sidekick. Tim and Steph would probably start their own BatTube channel with the videos they'd collect.

* * *

Dick's snores indeed kept time during the family's meditation hour, much to everyone's amusement, but no one really minded.

It was nice to have his whole family sit together without fighting, Bruce decided, even if all they were doing was sitting around on pillows with their eyes shut. Hell, just to have them all in the same room, alive, was a miracle.

If only Talia could have been here, too, Bruce thought with a pang - but then, he wouldn't have his beloved Bane, and that was an equally distressing thought. Still, he would always miss his first love and mourn what Ra's had done to her.

_I love you,_ Bruce whispered in his heart to the soul of the woman he'd known, the soul that was most surely no longer inhabiting her still-breathing body. Bruce didn't know if Bane's pillows could communicate with the dead, but he hoped that Talia, wherever her spirit actually was, could hear him.

_You would be so proud of our son, _he thought to her as the evening's meditation stretched on. _Of all of them, _Bruce corrected a second later, thinking of Dick and Jason and the truce they'd managed to achieve.

But little Damian, the child who Bruce and Talia had made together, instead of merely parenting together - Bruce hoped that Talia could see how brave Damian was and how loving he'd managed to become. In that respect, Damian took after both of his parents, Bruce supposed, because despite being raised an assassin, the Talia al Ghul who Bruce had once known had been overflowing with love, not only for him, but for Dick and Jason and Alfred, too.

And for Damian, according to Jason, before Ra's had violently stripped his mother's love away.

Bruce couldn't say if it was Talia or the pillows who answered him, but as his thoughts wandered back to Bane, Bruce realized that he felt wrapped in the surety that his baby mama would have approved of Bane as her replacement, not only as their children's parent but also as Bruce's lover.

That knowledge didn't ease the ache in his heart where Talia should have been, but Bruce realized that it did bring him some comfort. Perhaps loving Bane was the last task that Bruce could perform for Talia; his way of mending the hole that her disappearance had left in all of their lives, the hole that Talia would have yearned to see filled rather than left as a festering, gaping wound.

After all, that's why Talia had left Gotham in the first place to take a zombified Jason to her father, wasn't it? So that Bruce could find respite in ignorant closure rather than be emotionally battered and bludgeoned for the rest of his life with a resurrected-but-not-really son. Talia had tried so hard to protect him and Jason, both, and surely her soul could finally be at peace, knowing that father and children and Alfred were a united family at last, well on their way to healing and reconciliation.

Bruce came back to himself with a jolt when Bane's phone chimed, announcing the end of the evening's meditation hour. Dick hadn't even stirred, and Babs was shaking him awake with giggles while the others stood and stretched. Bane sought out Bruce's eyes and smiled at what he saw there.

"The pillows have brought you peace tonight, mi amor," Bane commented as he cupped Bruce's face with a hand before bending down to kiss him.

"I'm not sure it was the pillows," Bruce chuckled, "but…"

He trailed off, looking around the room at his father and children.

"I do feel better," he admitted, looking back up at Bane with love in his eyes.

"Good," Bane said softly, stroking Bruce's cheek with his thumb.

"I need to drive Dick home and get him to bed," Babs was laughing to the group as she maneuvered a sleepy Dick to his feet.

"No Nightwing patrol tonight?" Jason playfully snarked at his brother.

Dick gave him an exhausted, miserable look back.

"Not unless you and Harley want to suit up after you're done with Gotham," he grumbled.

"No, thank you," Harley said, wrinkling her nose up in disgust. "I ain't never cared for Bludhaven. Boring as shit in that town."

Jason chortled while Dick looked deeply offended.

"Nightwing and the Bludhaven Police Force disagree with you on that," he said to Harley.

"Arkham Asylum says I'm right," Harley cheerfully grinned back. "Where's your looney bin for criminals, huh, Dudhaven?"

"Oh!" Jason shouted. "Good pun, babe!" he said, high fiving her.

"That was Dick-worthy," Steph nodded in appreciation while even Tim giggled.

"Bludhaven will survive without Nightwing for one night," Babs said firmly. "Everybody deserves a night off once in awhile," she scolded Jason.

"Especially after getting their ass kicked by my wife," Jason bragged.

"Yeah, yeah," Dick muttered, but it was with a smile.

"Anyway, Nightwing ain't the only one getting the night off tonight, Mistah Hood," Harley said flirtatiously. "You and me gotta go paint Gotham red," she winked up at him, trailing her fingers along his chest.

"Damn straight we do," Jason grinned. "Ready, Batlings?" he asked the kids.

"Ready, baba," Damian immediately replied, and Tim and Steph nodded their agreement.

"Please make sure it's not blood you're painting the town with," Bruce took the time to lecture Jason and Harley, who impishly shook a careless head back and forth.

"No promises," she sing-songed.

"Yeah, Pops. It's gonna be Harley and Red Hood tonight," Jason said with a wicked smile. "The green skivvies are staying upstairs."

"Thank God," Tim muttered under his breath.

"It will be fine, Bruce," Bane said consolingly, and perhaps the teeniest, slightest bit impatiently.

Not that he didn't love his family, but, well, he and Bruce had a particularly spectacular date night planned. So if Dick and Babs wanted to get themselves home and the Hoods and the Batlings wanted to get on with patrol - well, Bane would be completely unopposed to hurrying the good-byes along.

"We shall see you for Sunday dinner?" Alfred was saying to Dick and Babs as he thankfully, to Bane's great relief, began ushering them to the door.

"Yes," they both promised with a smile.

"Good," Bruce said, moving forward to hug them good-bye. "I love you," he said to first Dick, and then Babs, as he gave them very passable hugs with quite a decent amount of squeeze and closeness and a minimum of awkwardness.

Bane hesitated before offering hugs to the couple, though.

"Hug Bane," Bruce ordered Dick and Babs, though, cutting straight through any fuss.

"We'd better," Dick sighed to Babs. "I already got the guilt trip lecture once today from Bruce."

The original Bat's lips twitched as Bane gave him a gleefully suspicious look.

"Oh, that's new," Babs said with great interest as she steeled her courage and awkwardly opened her arms to Bane.

Bane, for his part, kept the hug much more airy and brief than he was accustomed to, but he didn't want to over-impose on the two people who had once had to force him out of Gotham after he'd shattered their mentor's world.

Dick looked like he wanted to hug Bane even less than he'd wanted to hug Jason, but he gallantly suffered through a hug that was little more than his palms briefly touching Bane's back. The grateful look in Bruce's eye made it worth it, though, Dick supposed, and he couldn't deny that the recent changes in Bruce were nothing short of incredible.

And if that was partly due to Bane? Well… Dick would make an effort. For Bruce. Because Bruce sure as hell had made an effort to reconcile with Dick, whose chest remained blissfully unknotted in his father's presence, and the warmth that glowed in Dick's heart instead of his former anger and fear was helping Dick to feel a little extra generous when it came to former enemies.

And even Harley was coming over to give him a hug, despite the fact that Dick was quite sure that his brother's wife hadn't exactly forgiven him yet, and there was Jason who, unprompted by Bruce, was cautiously eyeing Dick to plot his approach for as-brief-and-painless-a-hug-as-possible.

Maybe thinking back on what he and Babs had gone through with Bane, back when they were enemies, would help him to appreciate what Jason was going through now in trying to forgive his own sorry ass, Dick decided. And maybe that would be something he could talk to Babs about, whenever they both might inevitably fall prey to moaning and groaning to each other about Bane's new place in the family.

Because, after all, anything that Jason and Harley were capable of, surely Dick and Babs could also manage.

"Quickly, Batlings! To the Batcave!" Harley playfully squealed once Alfred was walking Dick and Babs out.

"Have a good night, Pops and Bane," Jason winked at the two men before joining Harley in escorting the younger children out of the room.

"To the bedroom?" Bruce asked Bane with a grin once they were alone.

"To the bedroom," Bane eagerly agreed.

* * *

_A/N - Thanks for reading! Comments are loved and appreciated. _

_The next chapter will be up in about two weeks... no exact promises given that these last few chapters are taking a bit longer to get just right, but we are almost to the end :) _

_You can follow me on Tumblr as River9Noble. Come say hi! _


	48. Chapter 48

_A/N Lemons ahead. Read at your own risk ;) _

* * *

_**Chapter 48**_

Bane reached for the light switch when he followed Bruce into their bedroom, but his boyfriend stopped him with a hand laid over his.

"You want them out," Bruce said gently.

"I - yes," Bane said with some embarrassment. "But I did not know - if you wished them on at first -"

Despite the darkened room, Bane felt himself blushing. Why did sex with the man he loved have to make him feel so uncomfortable? Pebbles of irritation began to swirl to the surface of his usually tranquil inner stream, mixing with long murky tendrils of seaweed from the past that usually consented to lay at the bottom of Bane's awareness where he preferred it, but just when Bane was about to be washed away in an eddy of self-loathing, he felt Bruce's hands caressing his sides.

"What I wish, love," the one-time Bat said, "is to make you feel as safe and cherished as possible," Bruce said, leaning forward and finding Bane's neck with his lips.

Bane let out a soft sigh as Bruce's hands continued to skim his waist. His lover's cock brushed against his the barest bit through their pants while Bruce continued to press soft kisses into his throat, inching his way up towards Bane's jaw.

"I am sorry," Bane couldn't help but say as he reached his arms up to encircle Bruce's neck, but he was immediately overridden by the little shushing sounds that began flowing out of Bruce's mouth.

"You never have to be sorry," Bruce promised him. "Not ever, baby," he said in a voice so tender that tears filled Bane's eyes as Bruce's kisses dotted his cheeks.

Bane wrapped a hand around the back of Bruce's head, threading his fingers through his Bat's hair as he pressed their foreheads together.

"Mi cielo," Bane said in a thick voice as wet as his eyes, "mi cielo - Bruce," he murmured against his lips before catching them in his own and pulling them into a kiss as sweet as Bruce's care for him.

"I do not deserve you," Bruce breathed out when they broke apart, "but I am so in love with you."

"_You _do not deserve _me?_" Bane chuckled softly. "Now who is speaking foolishness, mi amor?"

Bruce laughed a little bit, too, before finding Bane's hand in the dark and tugging him along towards the bed, which was their bed, now, and knowing that Bane would be sleeping next to him every night and waking up beside him every afternoon? Bruce couldn't begin to describe the heady effects of the effervescent joy that bubbled up in his heart at what he had to look forward to, and for the rest of his life, if he was lucky.

As the two men sat side by side, tugging off shoes and shirts, Bruce found himself rubbing his cheek against Bane's bulging shoulder much like a cat might show affection for its human.

"You made me whole again," Bruce said.

A low hum rumbled deep in Bane's chest.

"I helped, perhaps," he said. "But you did the work, Bruce."

"Does that mean I can't show my gratitude and appreciation to you?" Bruce asked Bane with a wicked smirk that easily bled through the dark into his voice as he turned and straddled Bane's hips, grinding down firmly now as he knelt over his lover's lap.

Bruce's fingers reached up and caressed the bald ridges of Bane's head as Bane said bemusedly, "I find that I am unopposed to a little appreciation, mi amor. You may proceed."

Bruce chuckled, but not for long, because his tongue was finding its way into Bane's mouth as he kissed him, slow and deep at first, but gradually becoming hotter and wetter as he rode his boyfriend, rolling his hips and teasing their cocks through their still clothed lower halves.

One of Bane's arms made its way around Bruce's waist, keeping him tucked tightly against himself as he moved, but Bane's other hand slipped into the back of Bruce's gym pants and began massaging his muscular, bare ass.

Bruce groaned into their kisses and, as Bane continued to knead his butt cheek, Bruce finally gave up on making out in favor of burying his face into Bane's collarbone and moaning with delight, enjoying the joint stimulation of his cock and ass while his arms clung to Bane's neck.

Bane growled against him and moved his second hand to Bruce's other cheek, now squeezing both globes and using his new grip to direct the movements of Bruce's hips as he continued to swivel and rock against him.

"God, Bane," Bruce mumbled against him with a smile.

"Indeed," Bane rumbled back with a soft laugh.

"Come lay down," Bruce grinned when his cock got a little too hard for comfort.

He leaned back slightly and cupped Bane's face with his hands.

"I want to get these pants off you," Bruce said.

"Gladly, mi amor," Bane smiled, so Bruce climbed off of him and tugged his own pants off and onto the floor while Bane moved towards the pillows at the head of the bed.

"Lift your hips up," Bruce instructed with a pat once Bane was settled comfortably.

His boyfriend groaned happily as Bruce stripped him bare and then sighed with contentment while Bruce crawled to the edge of the bed, searching in the dark for the lube and condoms he had stashed in the nightstand.

"So, I researched how to do this," Bruce said as he made his way back to Bane and cozily settled himself between his legs, "but I'm gonna want you to talk me through it so I don't hurt you," he said.

Bane chuckled.

"Of course my Bruce researched anal sex," he teased.

"Extensively," Bruce said very seriously. "A failure to plan means planning to fail."

"You could never fail at sex, mi cielo," Bane said softly, reaching a hand down until it met Bruce's and their fingers tangled together. "You yourself are the most important element to me. Performance is perfunctory."

"Baby," Bruce breathed out raggedly, pulling their joined fingers up to his lips for a kiss.

He'd never thought of himself as a mushy guy, even when he was with Talia, but Bruce felt his heart turning to absolute liquid that was leaking out of his eyes in a way that made him suddenly feel very glad, too, that the lights were off.

"You are crying?" Bane asked with delighted pleasure.

"Maybe," Bruce muttered with a sniff and a little laugh as he wiped his eyes with his free hand. "I love you," he said to Bane, crawling up his body to give him a tender kiss.

"Te amo," Bane murmured passionately, catching Bruce's head in his hand to keep him there for several more kisses until Bruce laughed against him.

"I could kiss you all night," he said, "but I'm really looking forward to fucking you."

"And I am looking forward to being fucked," Bane grinned back at him. "By all means, proceed."

Bruce was laughing again as he crept back down towards Bane's crotch.

"You are so good for me, baby," Bruce said, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of Bane's thigh.

He lifted his head immediately after, though.

"Is that ok?" he asked with some worry. "I won't go anywhere near your cock. But if you don't like it, I don't have to do it."

Bane hummed in thought for a minute.

"I believe kissing my legs will be all right," he said. "I trust that you will not stray."

"Ok," Bruce said, caressing Bane's thigh with his hand now. "But remember, love, I want you to tell me right away if I need to slow down or stop at any time with anything, ok?"

"I will," Bane reassured him with more comfort than he had shown this morning in bed, and Bruce found his heart glowing warmer at Bane's growing ease with him.

He poured some lube into his hand and reached for Bane's cock, stroking it a few times to Bane's low groans until slipping his hand lower to massage Bane's taint while he cupped and squeezed his balls.

A smile lit Bruce's face as Bane's sounds of pleasure increased, but Bane's tiny whimpers and sighs erupted into a low moan when Bruce's wet fingers found his puckered asshole and gently began to circle the outer rim.

"Good?" Bruce asked with a grin.

"Very good," Bane growled with a little laugh.

"You'll have to do it to me sometime," Bruce said thoughtfully. "If you want to, I mean. No one's ever played with my ass before," he said.

"Really?" Bane said in disbelief, lifting his head up from the pillow a little bit in surprise.

"Really," Bruce chuckled. "The question of anal never came up between me and Talia and none of my hook-ups were exceptionally daring. They were mostly there for themselves," he muttered with a trace of bitterness, prompting a sadly sympathetic sound out of his boyfriend.

"You deserved more," Bane said quietly.

"Well, I wasn't offering more," Bruce sighed. "I deserved exactly as much as I got, I think," he said philosophically.

Bane hummed quietly as Bruce resumed his playful stroking.

"I suppose I received what I offered in the past as well," Bane mused. "Which makes me cherish this all the more," he said lovingly.

"Me, too," Bruce warmly agreed, bending his head to press another kiss to Bane's muscular leg. "You have no idea how happy you're making me right now," he said.

"I believe I have a small idea," Bane teased back. "Or a rather large one," he laughed, grabbing his hardened cock and nudging Bruce with it, making him chuckle.

"Can you flip over?" Bruce asked him a minute later after continuing to tease the outside of his asshole. "I want to massage your ass before trying a finger."

"As your internet directions have no doubt suggested," Bane smiled, willingly rolling over onto his stomach.

"Yes," Bruce smiled back. "I want to do it right."

Bane moaned as Bruce's strong fingers began to work on his butt muscles, kneading and squeezing Bane's frankly spectacular ass with pleasure as Bruce's own cock got even harder, too.

"That feels very right," Bane mumbled against his folded arms.

"Good," Bruce smiled, reaching for more lube and probing the outside of Bane's hole again before asking, "Can I try a finger?"

"Please do," Bane purred, inhaling with delight as Bruce's first digit slid in easily.

"Oh, fuck," Bruce whispered in awed delight as the soft heat consumed his finger. "That feels amazing," he breathed out as he began to slowly pump his finger in and out of Bane's ass.

"I concur," Bane chuckled, groaning suddenly and gripping the sheets when Bruce's finger probed deeper.

"Prostate?" Bruce asked breathlessly, but with a proud grin.

"Prostate," Bane moaned, chasing after Bruce's withdrawing finger with his ass until Bruce was plunging it back in again and hitting his sweet spot.

"God, baby," Bruce mumbled as he massaged Bane's left ass cheek with his free hand while continuing to stroke into him.

"You like this," Bane smiled in the dark, moaning again as Bruce answered with his fingers as well as his voice.

"I love this," Bruce said back wholeheartedly. "It's actually kind of like pussy," he laughed softly. "But better, because it's you, baby," he ended warmly, leaning down to kiss Bane's toned ass before giving into temptation and gently gnawing on a meaty chunk.

Some Spanish curses flew out of Bane's mouth in a hiss.

"Good," Bane growled when Bruce quickly let him go, unsure of the tone of his lover's reaction. "Very good," Bane added. "More."

Bruce smiled to himself and licked a long stripe up Bane's ass before chewing on a solid corner of his cheek. As Bane writhed under him, an idea struck Bruce and he switched fingers to put his thumb in Bane's ass so that he could grab his cock and balls with the rest of his fingers.

The cursing at the head of the bed got louder and decidedly more enthusiastic and Bane's flat palm began to pound on the mattress, making Bruce grin in triumph. Batman did like to excel at whatever task he undertook, after all, and by the sounds of it, he was succeeding.

Encouraged by Bane's reactions, Bruce slipped his thumb out only to apply extra lube to his fingers before gently working two into Bane's hole, while reaching under him this time to stroke his cock with his other hand.

"Bruce," Bane mumbled into the sheets. "Mi cielo, Bruce -" he groaned out as Bruce began stroking him harder.

"Do you want to come now or when I'm inside you?" Bruce asked as he kept working his boyfriend over.

"Inside me," Bane muttered. "I can wait."

"Should I add another finger?" Bruce asked as he let up on Bane's cock, and Bane grunted his assent.

"God, I love you," Bruce said in awe as Bane's hole willingly stretched open to accommodate the extra girth. "Fuck, baby, this is incredible," Bruce happily murmured, smiling in the dark as even more of his hand slipped into Bane's ass.

Bane moaned his agreement, meeting Bruce's fingers with his hips on each thrust while he sighed out incoherent sounds.

"One more," Bane muttered. "Then fuck me."

"Ok," Bruce smiled.

"Damn," he whispered when almost his entire hand was up Bane's ass. "You're so hot, baby," Bruce said, leaning down to lick and bite some more until Bane was panting out, "Enough! Please."

"Is it ok with you to roll over on your back?" Bruce asked him as he withdrew his hand and unwrapped a condom. "So I can kiss you while I'm fucking you?"

"Mi cielo," Bane breathed out, already rolling over in response to Bruce's request. "Please. Yes. I have never -" he started to say, but had to break off as emotion overwhelmed him.

"Never done it this way?" Bruce gently finished for him as he lubed up his cock, and Bane hummed in response.

"My first love," Bane sighed contentedly, drawing his legs up for Bruce, who carefully lined the tip of his cock up with his eager hole.

"My last love," Bruce replied with utter certainty and so much warmth as he slowly pressed in, sighing in relief as Bane readily accommodated him once he was past the outer muscle.

"Oh, fuck," Bruce groaned in delight as Bane's heat enveloped him. "Baby. Bane," he mumbled, pressing deeper until he was fully sheathed in his softly moaning boyfriend's ass.

"Bruce," Bane whimpered back, and holy fuck, the great and mighty Bane was _whimpering _underneath him and around him and Bruce felt absolutely drunk with love and power and victory as he reached forward to cradle Bane's head in his hands.

He kissed him, slow and sweet and deep with his cock nestled as deep inside him as it could go.

"Te amo, te amo," Bane whispered raggedly against Bruce's lips before he slowly withdrew his cock most of the way out.

"Ready, love?" Bruce asked gently.

"So very ready," Bane replied.

And then Bruce thrust into him.

Bane met him with his hips and a moan and then they were moving together as Bruce fucked him, slowly at first while he steadied himself with his hands on Bane's shoulders, his mouth hovering right over Bane's lips as their breath mingled together.

"I love you so damn much," Bruce breathed out, his voice sounding wrecked and ragged from the explosions of emotion in his once-dull heart that only a short time ago had seemed ready to quit altogether.

Bruce tipped his chin down and caught Bane's mouth in a wet kiss, sliding his tongue in and stroking a possessive caress that brought more whimpers and even little whines out of Bane's throat as Bruce kept making love to him, in their bed, in their bedroom, in Wayne Manor, which Bruce supposed they could now call Bayne Manor, and dammit, Harley needed to get out of his head when he was fucking his amazing, brilliant, compassionate, ridiculous boyfriend who made him laugh and let him cry and propped him up when he was ready to fall.

"What's funny?" Bane breathed up with a smile when Bruce couldn't contain his giggles.

"I thought we could rename the house Bayne Manor, with a Y," Bruce snickered as he moved inside the man who brought him so much joy, who was already chuckling with him and kissing him back, fiercely and delightedly and protectively, too, with one hand running through Bruce's hair and a thumb stroking over his cheek.

"Do not ever say again that you have no light," Bane playfully cautioned him in between moans of pleasure, "or I shall be forced -" he paused and groaned as Bruce hit his prostate really fucking perfectly -

"You'll be forced?" Bruce teased him back, grinding his hips into Bane's sweet spot with a relentless rhythm.

"Bruce - ¡Dios mío!" Bane exclaimed, throwing his head back onto the pillow.

"I shall be forced to remind you," he panted out to his increasingly passionate boyfriend, "when and how you came up with the name for our home."

"Baby, you can remind me when and how I came up with the name any damn time you please," Bruce growled out seductively, snapping his hips sharp and fast now while he reached down and began pumping Bane's cock.

"ꜟAyyy, que rico!" Bane shouted, his fingers tightening in Bruce's hair and pulling tight as he came, his cum exploding out of him onto Bruce's chest in a hot stream of pleasure.

Feeling his lover come for him combined with the added sensation on his scalp made Bruce moan and a second later he was coming too with his cock plunged deep inside Bane's ass, his hips shaking with the force of his orgasm while Bane trembled beneath him.

Bruce slumped forward and collapsed onto Bane's chest, drained but exhilirated, before pulling out and tying off the condom.

"Bruce," Bane mumbled into his hair as soon as he was snuggled back into his arms. "Te amo, mi cielo."

"Te amo," Bruce murmured back into his ear. "I love you, too. So much, sweetheart," he said, even though the words were inadequate for the avalanche of feelings in his heart.

Bane turned his head and kissed him, sweet and sure, and Bruce let out a happy little noise before nestling his head even tighter into Bane's neck. Bane hummed with pleasure and squeezed his arms tightly around his boyfriend, who had given him a home and a family and most of all, himself, and Bane's heart had never felt fuller.

Bruce lazily trailed his hand up to cup Bane's cheek as they cuddled in bed, gently stroking the side of his face and occasionally pressing little kisses into his neck.

"Baby?" he said after a long while of sleepy contentment.

"Yes, my Bruce?" Bane said back with a smile in his voice.

"Will you marry me?" Bruce said quietly.

Bane's breath caught in his throat and his whole body instinctively tightened around Bruce.

"Bruce -" Bane gasped out, sudden tears rolling down his cheek.

"You must turn the light on for such a question!" Bane tried to laugh, although his throat was constricted with emotion.

"Ok," Bruce grinned into him, pushing himself up and crawling over Bane to turn the bedside lamp on.

When he repositioned himself back over his boyfriend, Bane was staring up at him in wonder and awe with a look of such adoration and gratitude on his face that Bruce began crying, too.

"Dammit," Bruce muttered in mock annoyance, wiping his eyes and then his nose on his bare arm even though he was laughing, too.

"Ask again," Bane softly commanded as he sniffed and kept crying.

"Baby," Bruce said again, reaching up to cup Bane's face with both hands this time. "I love you more than anything and want you to be my husband, even though that means that we'll have to let Damian get his pilot's license," he said with a big show of reluctant horror.

Bane started to laugh, but there was still a hefty amount of tears mixed in.

"Will you marry me?" Bruce asked him again, gently stroking away some of the tears on Bane's cheeks with his thumbs.

"Yes," Bane immediately said with no hesitation.

"I would love nothing more than to become Bane Wayne," he rumbled up to his best friend and lover.

And then Bruce was smiling bigger than Bane had ever seen, his often sad eyes looking completely happy for once, and Bane was pulling him down into a flurry of passionate kisses that left them both breathless.

"We should get engagement bracelets," Bruce mumbled into his shoulder sometime later before they drifted off to sleep. "Like the friendship ones. But better."

"Ah," Bane said. "Yes. We are no longer BFHF."

"We still are," Bruce protested. "It's just not Best Friends Hopefully Forever anymore. It's Best Friends Husbands Forever," he smiled. "So we should wear something else until the wedding."

Bane chuckled.

"I believe that our Stephanie would groan in despair at your acronym," he teased.

"Would you?" Bruce asked with a grin.

"Never," Bane declared. "We shall use the bracelets I made for us instead of wedding rings," he beamed and Bruce giggled in delight.

And the fact that the once dark and gloomy Bat was giggling in his arms filled Bane with the proudest glow.

"In fact, I suppose that we can select a standard BFF bracelet to wear in the meantime," Bane said thoughtfully. "Best Fiancé Forever."

"Ooo," Bruce said eagerly, suddenly rolling over and bouncing out of bed. "I have some left!" he exclaimed, running over to his dresser and rooting around in the top drawer.

"Here," he said, dumping the handful of leftover bracelets onto the covers before climbing back in bed next to Bane. "Which ones?" he asked his fiancé.

"Are there any hearts left?" Bane asked him, picking through the pile.

"Dammit," Bruce grumbled when they had all of the jewelry spread out in front of them.

"No," he sulked. "We can order another one, I guess," he said, but he looked miffed.

"What about the sun and the moon?" Bane suggested, pulling out the coordinated pair of charms.

"That'll work," Bruce said, brightening up again. "I'm the moon, of course," he grinned.

"Now, Bruce, I have become the Dark Knight," Bane protested. "I should be the moon and you should be my sun, because you bring me light."

"But I like the dark," Bruce pouted. "You're the early riser."

Bane began to laugh, leaning his head against Bruce's before pressing a giggling kiss to the side of his face.

"Look, mi amor," Bane said. "There are two sets left of the sun and moon. We can each have both charms," he said.

"Ok, fine," Bruce grumbled. "But only because you insist I'm your light," he said reluctantly.

"And also because you promised to take me out on dates in the daylight," Bane smiled at him serenely as he opened the two packages of bracelets and began adjusting the sizes of the knotted cording.

"Well, I suppose that's a valid reason," Bruce sighed, but his eyes were sparkling, and when Bane slid a sun bracelet onto Bruce's wrist followed by the moon, Bruce's eyes were downright misty but his smile was huge.

He reached down and took off his flowered BFHF bracelet.

"I'll keep these safe until the wedding," he said sweetly to Bane, leaning forward to kiss him after Bane handed him his BFHF bracelet as well, before sliding the sun and moon bracelets onto Bane's wrist and sealing them with kisses.

"I will look forward to putting my bracelet on your wrist myself this time," Bane said tenderly, reaching out to stroke Bruce's face.

"I won't ever take it off again," Bruce promised him. "Even if we fight."

"Mi cielo, you may wish to take it off to clean it once in awhile," Bane teased him but Bruce just shook his head and laughed.

"No," he said. "You're stuck with me and my bracelet. Dirt and all."

"There are worse things," Bane said pragmatically.

As they fell asleep in each other's arms a little while later, Bruce reflected that there were many worse things, and he had experienced most of them. He didn't know why exactly God and the Universe thought that he was ready for better things now, but Bane would probably say that it was because Bruce had done the work, he decided.

Maybe the pillows were starting to speak to him after all, Bruce thought with some amusement as sleep overtook him.

Or maybe it was just his Bane.

* * *

_A/N - Two or at most three more chapters to go! OMG you guys, so close to the end now! _

_You can follow me on Tumblr as River9Noble. Come say hi! _


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